Morbid Curiosity
by FoxFace Zero
Summary: Post-Series On her deathbed, Irina Spasky has an unusual request for Ian Kabra... Call it morbid curiosity. Ian/Amy
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own 39 clues!

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**Morbid Curiosity**

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"It's about damn time you showed up!"

"Great to see you too, old Mum," he says, flashing that sly smirk of his. He knows perfectly well that the pet name irritates me, "You've been keeping well, I see."

I snort dryly, lifting up an arm to show the tubes and wires dangling off my skin. Keeping well, is that what this is? Confined to a hospital bed, unable to stand or move enough to feed myself or go to the bathroom. It isn't the way I would have chosen to go out of this world, but here it is.

"I'm _dying_, you disgraceful excuse for a Lucian!"

"Shame that."

"—And I sent for you four days ago! Where have you been?!"

He shrugs indifferently, setting himself down at the foot of my hospital bed, "I've been busy. Business affairs and all that. Don't tell me I've kept you waiting…"

I scowl at him, not needing the machine next to me to tell me that my blood pressure just spiked. He's known I was terminal for a month now. And yet this brat refuses to show even a modicum of respect for me—after all these years! After everything the three of us – him, Amy and I—have all been through.

"As a matter of fact, you have," I tell him through gritted teeth.

Ian quirks an eyebrow, "Really? Well, I'd have been here much sooner if I'd known you'd hurry up the dying process a little."

"You're a rotten child!" I screech, unable to maintain my calm, "I'll be gone by tomorrow and this is how you speak to me? This is how you speak to your mother—?"

"You're not my mother, Irina," he tells me with a steel-edged tone. His dark eyes have narrowed and I can tell I've struck a sore spot. Good.

"You owe me the same respect," I scold him, watching as an indignant look appears on his face. He's twenty-three now, but I swear that I saw the same look in his eye at fifteen, "I've made you what you are."

"Tell yourself that," he says and stands abruptly, looking as though he has the intention of storming off before I've even had a chance to speak my peace.

"You're not going anywhere," I tell him commandingly, my voice rasping as I speak the words. He pauses and eyes me distrustfully, "Not until we've discussed a few things first."

"Sorry, I'm not one for teary good-byes," Ian says coldly, his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave.

"One being my will…"

That stops him. I smile to myself; Lucians are all too easy to manipulate. One whiff of money and they yap at your heels like an obedient dog. Ian may be a special breed, but they're all canine at the heart of it. He turns slowly, his expression is more than a little perplexed, but it is still as though he's evaluating me.

"Don't tell me you're leaving me a little cash?" he says with suspended interest.

I nod, "Wouldn't seem fitting if I left you nothing."

He sighs to himself, "Why does it sound like there's a catch?"

"A small one," I concede, unable to stop the grin that plays out over my lips. I know I have his full attention and he's not about to walk out the door without hearing me out, "I'm dying, Ian. I'm content with how I lived my life, but there are a few mysteries that have always plagued me. Things I never hoped to know before—"

"--Do get to the point."

"I want you to tell me how you managed to convince Amy that a slimy, arrogant punk like you was anywhere near worthy of her."

The boy looks stunned, "You want to know how we got together?"

"Precisely."

"Why?" he asks me.

"Call it… morbid curiosity," I say with a shrug, "A union so against nature as yours is fascinating."

He's glaring at me as though he suspects there's more to it than that. His suspicions are wrong, but that doesn't mean he isn't entitled to a healthy dose of fear. I've jerked him around plenty in the past—nearly as much as he's done to me. I settle back against my pillows and watch as he begins to draw his own conclusions. In another life, I might have delighted in goading the poor boy with this mental anguish knowing that he fully deserved it. But whether I've found some sage, benevolent wisdom in my final years or his close relationship with that clever girl has endeared him to me, I don't revel in this nearly as well as I once did.

"You called me all the way up from London to tell you _that_?" he sounds a little put off by the inconvenience, "Ever heard of a phone?"

"I'm dying; you don't get to question my judgment."

He seems to make peace with that, as illogical and unreasonable as it is. It makes me wonder if he really is as reluctant to come see me as he seems. Perhaps the boy has more of a heart than he lets on. Sinking back down on the bed, he shrugs his shoulders at me in a hapless gesture.

"You know all about Korea, right?"

"Yes," I answer, "Amy told me your history before we even contacted you about striking the deal. Such a wise young girl—_you_ on the other hand… "

"A disgraceful excuse for a Lucian," he mocks me in his usual impudent way, "Yes, I know. Do you want to hear the story, or do you want to insult me?"

I harrumph at him, but keep quiet as he begins his sordid tale. It's a story I've always had a strange interest in, since the day he came to me with a handful of revisions to our agreement; all aimed at safeguarding the one person in this world I thought he hated most.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. And this is his story, not mine; best to let the boy tell it in his own words…

*=*=*

A/N: I apologize if this is a little confusing. The woman in the hospital bed is Irina Spasky, NOT Ian Kabra's mother. The references to that will become a little clearer with the next chapter, if there's enough interest for me to post it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, I'm really pleased with the reception I got with this story! You guys rock! But there are a few questions I should answer before I go on with this.

First, I thought I'd be able to answer the mother/son situation between Ian and Irina, but I guess I just need to learn to be a little more concise. Sorry. For the time being, just know that they are NOT biologically related (other than the whole Lucian branch). That'd be a little... weird if they were. It won't be in this chapter, so I recommend putting it out of your mind for now.

And second, to the person who inquired about Ian's age. My answer will probably only confuse you more, but here it is. In the books, I believe he's 14, making him the same age as Amy. However, I could be completely making that up, because I can't find anything online to back that up. If anyone else actually has the books and has looked that up, I'd be glad to hear it. In my story though, he's 23 in the first chapter, but the story he's telling begins when Ian is 15 (at the end of the hunt).

Third, I can't really answer about whether or not Irina helps them get together. And of course, Amy is in this story now. But unfortunately, we won't be hearing her point of view. It will all be Ian's.

*=*=*

"It started with that phone message you left me. You remember the one, right? 'Meet me on the seventh floor of Sonoma&Sons at seven pm. Come unarmed and alone or don't come at all.' I know that KGB crap was all novel and fun back in your day, but with Hollywood depicting kidnappings and murder the way they do now, it was just cheesy."

**"I was serious."**

"I know that now. But I was a fifteen-year-old kid with no sense of fear and more money than I knew what to do with. Besides, I wanted the clues you'd collected."

**"You had more than me by then."**

"So? I knew there were one or two that I didn't have and that you did. And the trail had ended; if I didn't lean on a few people for those last few clues, what chance did I have of winning the hunt? That was my motivation when I went to meet you that night. I was going to take what you had and leave. I hadn't expected _her_ to be there."

**"Amy."**

"Who else? Of course it was Amy. She was sitting there, at that boardroom desk looking as lovely as she always did, her hands folded in her lap. You weren't there yet, but she was waiting for me. Do you know what she said?"

**"No, what?"**

"'Glad you could make it.' Like nothing had ever happened. Like we were _friends_. Unbelievable, right? I thought so anyway. I don't remember what I said in return. Probably wasn't anything too friendly. I was a bit of a jerk back then, if you'll recall—"

**"Still are."**

"Do you want to interrupt or do you want to hear the story?… Thank you. Now, then of course, you walked into the room and promptly turned my whole life about with this _deal_ of yours. I didn't know at the time that it was all Amy's genius mind at work; seeing it now, I should have realized it back then. Not that it mattered, really. I was more outraged at the proposition itself than its creator."

**"Why were you?"**

"_Why_? Oh, you know bloody well why! You were asking me to betray my family and abandon my life. To give up all of our family's collected clues and hand the victory to _you_, Irina. You don't think that's reason enough?"

**"We were rewarded for it."**

"Well, yes. I'm not forgetting that, I assure you. One doesn't merely push aside the appointment as the head of the Lucian branch without a second thought. Though at first I thought the two of you were both having me on. I mean, how could a second-rate Lucian and a street urchin from nowhere promise me absolute command over the most powerful Cahills to roam the Earth? And furthermore, why would I even want it? My own father held that title; surely he'd allow me to inherit it once I was prepared."

**"A bit too much faith in your father."**

"So you tried to convince me then. And young though I was, I could see the logic behind it. Lucians never relinquish authority easily and, if the power behind the 39 clues ever were to fall into his grip, there would be no way that Vikram Kabra would ever hand the reins to me."

**"The power of Orion. In Vikram's hands—"**

"Would have been a disaster, I know. Now I do, anyway. At the time, though, I hadn't any idea what it was. The 39 clues was just a game to me; the prize was infamy and glory, not a concrete thing. Even if I had… well, I don't think I would have cared. Which was where Amy came in."

**"Blessed girl."**

"She figured it out first, didn't she? Some tablet that she read and translated from Ancient Greek that catalogued some of the ingredients that she had already collected. I guess the whole thing pointed to an unspeakable power that, to quote her research 'would burn like a liquid sun, blinding and destructive if not handled with caution.' Today, we know it as the power of Orion. I suppose that was when she came running to you looking to make a truce. God knows why she thought she could trust _you_ though…"

**"Me? You were the real worry to the both of us."**

"Oh, don't act like you weren't just in it for the glory too. You were the one who would claim the invention of Orion to the world and thus secure your place as head of the Lucian branch, knocking my own father off in the process. Of course, your deal was that you would hand that all over to me on my twenty-fifth birthday—a lot sooner than old Vikram would have ever given it to me—and then you would slink off to enjoy your retirement in peace."

**"Ha! If only!"**

"Yes, that didn't quite work out now, did it? But that was the plan. As far as I could see, Amy didn't stand to gain a thing out of handing over her clues. You and I would each get our turn at ruling over the Lucian branch and wielding this great power of Orion—plus all of the subsequent fame and money that came with it. But Amy… she's so damn noble. And you have no idea just how infuriating that can be!"

**"Quit whining about the best thing to happen to you."**

"I'm not whin— Fine! But that bothered me a good deal. The only thing that Amy wanted in exchange for her clues was a contract in both our names that the power of Orion, once developed, would never be used as a weapon against anyone. She wanted peace and to benefit mankind rather than destroy it with this 'liquid sun.' I thought she was full of it; who the hell is that altruistic in real life?"

**"That would be Amy."**

"Well, yes, now I know that. But do you remember how long it took to convince me that it would all work out in my favour? We were there from seven at night until three that morning writing and re-writing stipulations and every agreement that popped into our tired minds. It was gruelling after a while and I don't remember a whole lot about that night except for when Amy took her jacket off and you could see the color of her bra through her shirt."

**"…"**

"Don't give me that look! I was _fifteen_! And dealing with a heavier amount of contract law in one night than most people do in their lives. The mind wanders…"

**"You're telling me that was the start of things between you two?"**

"God no! I just noticed she was _hot_. In a sort of geeky, bookworm-ish way. And apparently that's a positive thing. Who knew?"

**"… go on."**

"Right. Well after that night of getting everything nailed down about who would be responsible for what and drafting the first version of the contract before clues were exchanged, I spent a lot of time thinking about who I wanted to be. When it came down to it, I was still betraying my entire family and the Lucian branch on a hair-brained plan that hinged on a lot of things going right for us. Did I really have the stomach to go through with that?"

**"Do you believe your family would have spared you the same consideration?"**

"Not for a moment. Natalie would slit my throat in my sleep if Father had hinted at it. The question wasn't about morals, but about keeping my own hide safe. As I saw it, if things went south, I was first in the firing line. They'd have gone after the two of you much later, for sure. But I was going to be the first to go down."

**"But you did it anyway."**

"… Not without a hitch, but yes."

**"What do you mean?"**

"I guess you don't know about that part. Well, she met me outside of our scheduled meetings in a coffee shop in London to go over the iron-clad contract she had that was supposed to protect the world from me using Orion as a weapon once I took power. I was having my doubts about the whole thing and refused to sign it."

**"Oh, right!"**

"I told Amy that it was my project too and I didn't care what she had convinced you not to use it for. I was going to do as I saw fit and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it… You're right in thinking that that didn't go over well."

**"What did she say?"**

"Not much. She stuttered a lot, giving me a speech about death and destruction being a bad thing, blah, blah, blah. I wasn't hearing it. Told her that I'd find the rest of the clues on my own without her and use the power myself. I think I ended with something like 'And then we'll see just how far all this posturing about peace takes you.' Really Machiavellian stuff."

**"… and then?"**

"Amy started to cry in front of me. Not all that noticeably, just a few tears streaking down her cheeks and the odd sniff. But the thing about her is that she's bloody _gorgeous_ when she does it. Horrid thing to say, really, but it's true. Her eyes turn this very green color and her cheeks flame pink and her lips just—ok, fine! I'll stop it, but you get the idea. She was beautiful."

**"And you knew that you loved her then?"**

"No! What is it with you girls and that 'instant-love' rubbish? I did _not_ fall madly for her; she was crying and probably hated me. So, I did the best thing I could; I got up and left."

**"But you signed it! Amy told me."**

"Yes, later the next day. I don't know, _maybe_ I did like her by then. That's a big 'maybe' though. I was at least _attracted_ to her and the idea that I might have a half-decent shot with her if I just gave her what she wanted had crossed my mind. I mean, I was—and still _am_—impossibly good-looking. She'd have been mad _not_ to go for me. And before you chew me out for that, let me repeat: I was FIFTEEN. My thoughts on women were not complex back then."

**"Still aren't."**

"What was that?"

**"Please continue."**

"… She cornered me the next day as I was arriving home from school to my parents' mansion for the weekend. I attended a private school on the other side of the city, but I spent most weekends with them and Natalie. It was a big risk being seen talking to me, but evidently Amy felt it was important enough. We spoke on the street, out of view of my father's surveillance system. I'll spare you the details, but suffice to say that Amy had found her nerve. She had that stony, ready-to-explode look on her face that she only gets when she's really, really miffed. It's the one where words are no longer necessary and the duck-and-cover option is really the only course of action."

**"I imagine you're quite familiar with that."**

"It doesn't happen that often any more. In the beginning—wait. I'm jumping ahead here. Back on the street, Amy was ready to chop my head off if I didn't sign it. I didn't exactly know what she was capable of, so I just sneered at her and told her to run off like a good little bird. That… didn't go well. She threw the papers at me and started yelling. I wish I could remember it all because it was really quite good. It was… how did Dan put it? Ah, yes. _Epic._

"'You miserable son-of-a-bitch! Do you really think your father's going to just _let_ you have Orion? No one could be that stupid! No! No one could be that _blind_! And do you have any idea what he'll do with it? He'll kill thousands with it—maybe even millions!—if he doesn't kill_ you_ to take it first!'"

**"She was right."**

"I know she was, and that was when I started seeing it too. I knew precisely what Father was capable of. Killing me was never up there, I doubted that he would go that far, but thousands? Millions? I'd heard him talk about making sacrifices before. Her words struck a chord of understanding in me and I suddenly started thinking a lot more clearly. But by that time she was already resorting to using her fists. I don't think her aim was ever to hurt me. The only thing she wanted was to land one decent blow for gratification and then run off feeling like she'd won a minor victory. She never got to do that though."

**"Pity."**

"Not really, actually. You see, I caught hold of her wrists and pulled them closer to me, trying to restrain her. Amy just kept flailing though, trying to wrestle them free with this look of pure madness on her face. For a second, I thought she was out for blood. She kept yelling at me, demanding I free her. I got so fed up with dodging the knees repeatedly aimed at my groin that I yelled the first thing that came to mind."

**"And that was…?"**

"'I'll sign it, damnit!' She froze and stared up at me with those big doe eyes of hers. Her face was flushed from yelling and fighting and her mouth hung open, making an 'o' of surprise. It was so bloody adorable that I just about lost my mind right then. I wasn't even aware of the last words that I'd said or why exactly they were so shocking to her. I believe that I'd stopped breathing altogether. The only thing I could think of was that I really wanted to kiss her."

**"And? Did you?"**

"No. Should have though. Every time that I replay that scene over in my head, I wonder exactly what you're wondering now: why the hell not? Amy has even asked me 'why the hell not' and I never have an answer. I realize I should have—it would have spared the two of us about three months of torture—but I just didn't, okay?"

**"You're a horrible boy to play with her feelings like that."**

"I didn't know she_ had_ feelings. Didn't know that_ I_ did either. Not that it would matter; you'd still condemn me anyway. Maybe I should just stop here—"

**"—You do that and you're out of the will."**

"How about some water though?"

**"How… how _unusually_ thoughtful of you. Thank you, Ian. I would like a—"**

"I meant me. My throat is getting dry. Do they give you any cups in this place or do you drink everything through an IV? What? What's that look for—?!"

**"Just get on with the story!!"**

*=*=*

A/N: Hehe! Hope the style of writing isn't too off-putting. I'm just kind of experimenting with it. If anyone is wondering, it was inspired by the book 'World War Z.' Let me know what you think about the style and I might be able to tweak the next few chapters accordingly.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: All right! Got another one out. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and gave me their thoughts about the style I'm using. Glad to see that no one absolutely hated it and that I didn't get flamed for ruining a decent plot.

For Another Artist: Your comment made my day when I read it. I _wish_ what I'd written was a reference to the series. But I really hate to tell you that no, I don't think any of what I mentioned in the last chapters was in any way part of book five (which is the best of the series, in my opinion. Enjoy when you do get it!) As for Ian's selective memory… let's just say it's concentrated on the more important things. ; )

*=*=*

"Right, now where were we?"

**"You signed the contract."**

"Ah! The contract. Well, you remember what things were like after that. We met to give in our clues about a week after I came on board. You and your remaining cronies were there, ready to escort Amy and Dan on to a safehouse somewhere in Chechnya so that they could develop Orion. _Brilliant_ move, I must say; hiding them in a country crawling with other Lucians where they don't speak a word of English. Just _stellar_—"

**"And hiding them in America would have been best?"**

"Pretty much anywhere else would have been better. And you can ask Amy about that because I don't think she enjoyed her time in Russia very much either. But anyway, that was the last time I saw her for about a month. You were busy gathering up ingredients from around the world—on my dime, I might add—and bringing them back to her lab. I know you don't remember it, but it was just after then that the Lucian spy networks started exploding with activity."

**"That wasn't anything to do with us…"**

"No, but I was the one monitoring it from London, deleting most of the intel that came out of Russia before my father even read it. It got pretty perilous too and I was forever afraid that Natalie would figure out what I was up to and blow the whistle on it. That thought really kept me up at night those first few weeks and, several times, I just about ran to Father and confessed the whole scheme."

**"You… didn't though, right?"**

"We wouldn't be here talking if I had. No, I kept my mouth shut and used internet cafes after my classes finished to contact Amy about her progress. If you want to know the truth, that was really how our whole relationship started. I was only meant to contact her once every two weeks, but…"

**"You were in lov—"**

"No! I was not! Not yet, anyway! Stop jumping ahead of me. I'll get to the story on my own bloody time. Now… I was only supposed to contact her twice a month, but reading her emails made me feel much less panicked. There was someone else out there that was working towards the same end that I was—you just can't beat that high. In the beginning, she'd only type few lines like 'Project has started. I await further supplies.' Very impersonal. I knew Dan was there, taken into hiding as well. Sometimes he'd write the script, though those were even more impersonal and often with spelling errors."

**"He was _twelve_, Ian."**

"I know. But for some strange reason, whenever he responded to my queries, I felt unreasonably frustrated and alone. I know that's rubbish, because he wasn't doing any less than Amy, but I wanted to talk to her and her only. She was the one who had shoved that contract in my face and tried to pummel me with her fists; why should I be forced to deal with anyone other than her?"

**"That's quite the obsession."**

"Don't I know it. And that was just the start of it! Once the emails became more frequent and a little more informal, I found myself inside that dirty internet café in the same plastic orange chair every single day hoping and praying that she'd responded to my last e-mail. If she had, I'd be delighted and unable to wipe the smile off of my face by the time I returned to my dorm for the evening. It was a real problem, but one that I didn't see coming until it was too late."

**"You were smitten, then?"**

"Smitten… yes, maybe that describes it. We talked about nothing really. I kept her updated on the antics of our insane relatives, but we also talked about books, movies, books, the weather, books, Russia and yes, more bloody books. Before we started talking, I'd never been an avid reader. The classics were forced upon me as a precocious child, but once I'd hit my teen years, I lost interest. Then I started reading what Amy recommended and for some reason, I was never happier. It was like taking home a piece of the high that I got whenever I opened up one of her emails and keeping it with me all night. And best of all, no one in my family could find any suspicion with that. All they saw was that I was reading again whenever I came to visit on the weekends. My mother actually praised me for it with that beaming smile of hers, which, ironically enough, made a part of me feel like dying."

**"Why?"**

"I was betraying her. With every book that I read, it was another knife in the collective back of my family. I half expected her to turn to me with sad eyes and say 'Et tu, Brute?' before collapsing to the floor. She never did, of course, but it would have been fitting. Still, I carried on with my addiction. There was a point, I think, where morality passed me by with a wave as we went in opposite directions. That part was when we started using webcams on scheduled days."

**"You did WHAT?! Do you realize how dangerous that is?"**

"Yes, I did. But by then… we were a month and a half in without detection. My father believed the Cahills were back in Boston and if anyone even _cared_ about your old hide, I didn't hear about it. It was relatively safe. Naturally though, I had to pay off the clerk at the café to let me have it all to myself and to make himself scarce. It's truly amazing what dangling a hundred-pound note in front of someone will make him do…"

**"Is that meant to surprise me?"**

"No. But it was worth every pence to see her again. The first time I tried it, I wound up talking to her brother for a few moments before shutting the link down and leaving the café in a foul mood. I probably over-analyzed the situation because the next time, I accused her of not wanting to speak to me in person. As it turned out, she'd legitimately been busy and so I called to apologize via the webcam."

**"An apology? And you didn't even realize what she meant to you?"**

"Shut it. I was a young conspirator; we can't all be in touch with our feelings. But, I remember that first time I saw her. And it was surreal. I felt like asking myself why I had never noticed in person what I now saw through the grainy image of a poor-quality webcam. She was… incredible. Just so unbelievably beautiful. I mean, if I hadn't felt like a bloody fool for not kissing her back when I had her, I felt it right then."

**"And you told her this?"**

"Dear God, no! There's a process to these things, you know. You can't just blurt something like _that_ out of nowhere. It takes time to build up to it. And I'll warn you in advance that I did screw this up a good many times before we got there."

**"I'll believe that."**

"It didn't start out like that though. We were just friends, reporting our progress to one another over the space of 2200 miles and the companionship was nice. We never ran out of things to talk about, which I know for a fact irritated Dan to no end. I think even he figured out what I was about before I did, but then again, I was remarkably clueless for a long while."

**"You didn't know by _then_?"**

"I had it rationalized down by the fact that I was alone in all of this and she was a guiding light. I told myself that it was nothing more than that and felt proud of being intelligent enough to know the difference. I'm not going to deny that I was an idiot then."

**"So how did it eventually happen?"**

"Not for a while. Things had to get much worse before they got better. And it started to go downhill about four months later, sometime after my sixteenth birthday. I'd spoken about it to Amy, enthusing about being able to ride a motorbike and teasing her over the fact that she was still only fifteen. We'd had a good laugh over how she probably wouldn't want to drive any Russian vehicles there anyway (though for some reason, it already sounded like she had). There was our usual flirty banter. I still called her 'love' in an affectionate way, and even though she protested saying she hated that, I saw her smile every time. I think it was the last time that I returned to spend the weekend with my family feeling as happy as I did. Because that was when things really started to crash."

**"What happened?"**

"Natalie was there, sitting at the kitchen table as she tore into a paper-wrapped parcel from the mail. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have given it another thought, but there was something odd in the way she looked at me when I asked her what it was. She picked up the DVD case and waved it in front of my face."

"'You got a birthday present.' She told me in a rather clipped voice, 'Who's it from?' I snatched the moving DVD from her hand and examined it. It was a James Bond classic, still wrapped tightly in its cellophane confines. There was nothing special about it, no attached bugs or tracking device. It would have been just a regular birthday if it had been any other movie."

**"What? Which one?"**

"From Russia with Love…. Okay, stop grinning. Yes, it's amusing and you have no idea how long I spent staring at the 'L' word in the title with a mixture of dread and dawning realization. But it was bloody stupid of her to give away her location like that! I was on the link the next day telling her that it was probably one of the most idiotic things that she could have done. You can understand how I was upset; if something had happened to her because of that little slip up… I don't know…."

**"And Amy?"**

"Was hurt. I didn't understand why until afterwards, which even you can probably figure out—"

**"What? That she told you she loved you and you yelled at her?"**

"It wasn't love. It was…you'd have to ask her. I wasn't even sure what she meant by it. Maybe it was just 'happy birthday'. But she did it from an untraceable Ebay account under the name 'Irina Spasky'-- which was safe because all that Father would have believed was that she was trying to buy off his sympathy after having competed against me-- and had it shipped to my address. It was perfectly secure, except for the big flaming hint about someone or something Russia. Even Natalie could pick that up."

**"But she didn't."**

"No, it wasn't Natalie who figured out Amy and Dan's location. And regrettably, I left things on a sour note with Amy when I signed off that day. You see, around that time, there was one piece of intel that slipped by my clutches and wound up in my father's hands. I'm not even sure how they found out or who it was who reported it. But that night, purely by coincidence, I walked into my father's study to delete a few e-mails and found him sitting at his desk. He had on that thin smile that he always got when something devious was on his mind. I'm sure you're familiar with it."

**"The man has no other thoughts, Ian. All of them are devious."**

"Too true. But that night, you might say he was especially devious. He looked at me with that unabashed glee in his eyes and I knew that something was up. On the screen before him was a map of Chechnya, the major cities highlighted in orange."

**"No…"**

"I think my heart stopped for a full ten seconds. My mind was running circles, searching for any possible way that I could to warn Amy to get out of the country. He knew. My father _knew_. And he was coming for them. Maybe he'd let them live. Maybe he'd never have to know that his only son had tried to betray him. To this day, I don't know how I kept my voice as steady as it was when I spoke next, asking him as innocently as I could what the good news was."

"'We're drawing closer to the final clues,' he replied with a deep, joyful laugh, 'It's almost here, Ian. It's almost here…We'll finally be able to accomplish what our ancestors never could.'"

**"He would have ruined you, you know that."**

"Yes, well, I ended up ruining him. Does that make me the better man?"

**"…"**

"Didn't think so. Look, just don't…. _knock off…_ with that on your head; they're _my_ demons. Not yours or Amy's."

**"Yes. Now, you were saying? What happened with her?"**

"…Glad to see the drugs they give you haven't addled your complete indifference to anyone besides yourself."

**"What's done is done. All we can do is face the future, which in my case is running short. I want to hear the rest of this before I—how did you put it?— 'knock off!'"**

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A/N: As always, please review! Your comments sustain me.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ok. This chapter is not one of my favorites, but it's necessary for the plot to develop, so here it is. And a big thank you to everybody who reviewed! I know that the style is not for everyone and I am sorry that is isn't easier to read. For the next few chapters, it probably won't change too much, but after that, I'll be experimenting with how much actual, in-story dialogue I can get away with. There are a few questions I'd better answer first:

For Anknk: Here is where I sheepishly confess that it's going to be much longer than I first thought before I can reveal the whole Irina/Ian-mother/son connection. I originally planned this to be a two-shot, if you can believe that. But somewhere along the line, the story ran away with me, which now puts the big reveal around chapter 7 or 8. Bear with me though, I'll get there! I promise.

For xpskl: This story actually bit me in the middle of Spanish class and I was so excited about it that I missed the entire lecture scribbling down plot points. Oddly enough, it started out as a one-shot scene with a completely different plot about Ian and Amy toasting 'to defeat' in Paris and morphed into the long, utterly unrelated story that it is today. Funny how that works…

And now for...

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**Chapter 4**

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"Did you know that it's harder to break out of Whitgift School for Boys than it is to break out of most minimum security prisons in England? Fun fact. But not so fun if you're actually trying to accomplish it. I went back to school early that weekend, claiming that Natalie was interfering with a test I needed to study for. My parents bought the excuse easily and it allotted me enough time to plot my next move."

**"Couldn't you have just e-mailed her a warning to get out?"**

"I did."

**"Then why did you go to Chechnya?"**

"Because I knew she wasn't reading her e-mails. I know because I hacked her password and found my warnings in her junk folder. You remember that I had left things on a bad note with her? Over the birthday present. She was angry and punishing me for what I'd said to her. Unfortunately, that little grudge was going to get her killed."

**"And that was when you contacted me."**

"Yes. If I couldn't get word to her, I knew you could. I can't stress enough just how ridiculously panicked I was during the two days before I left. So panicked that I hadn't been able to eat or sleep since I learned what Father knew. But the really frightening part about it was that almost none of it was over my own safety. All I could think about was Amy getting hurt or killed and it was driving me absolutely mad. I felt like throwing myself on my father's mercy and begging him to spare her."

**"But not Dan or myself, I see."**

"Look, I didn't care about _myself_ anymore; why would I have cared about you two? And if I had thought for a millisecond that Father might actually have let her go, I would have done it. Thank God I wasn't that stupid."

**"You just flew all the way to Chechnya."**

"It took a lot of careful planning and a lot of forged notes from doctors that didn't exist. I had to convince about five people that I was sick enough to miss at least a week of school. And then I had to convince my family that there was a field trip to Paris that week which I had forgotten to mention. I went so far as to race back to the mansion to have them sign false permission slips and waivers on my life. The entire time, I was afraid to meet my mother's eyes. Absolutely terrified that she'd see the truth written on my face. I should have been paying closer attention to Natalie, but I wasn't."

**"Yes, yes. Get to what happened in Chechnya."**

"Patience is a virtue."

**"But time is not a luxury. Get on with it!"**

"Fine. By that time, you'd managed to book me a flight from London into Volgograd, which by the way is nowhere even _near_ Chechnya! It takes almost four hours by train to get to their stupid stronghold from there, and that was even after I paid off the border patrols. If even one of them had recognized me or mentioned something to a superior and it made its way back to Father, everything I'd worked for would have been over. Hence why sending Amy anywhere in Russia was a sodding _bad choice,_ Irina!"

**"We had the resources there! It was logical!"**

"And dangerous. You nearly _killed _her. If you think I've forgotten about how close that was, you're barmy. I only barely made it to their hideout with your miserable directions and what I found was nearly the death of me. The place was gutted from basement to attic. Floorboards were pried up and electronic equipment had been smashed to pieces. Beds and cushions had been knifed and ripped open. I felt for sure that I was going to find Amy's body somewhere in the debris."

**"But she lived."**

"They were gone three hours before my father's men arrived at the scene and a whole twenty four before I even made it there. I suppose they received your message, packed up all the ingredients and information they'd gathered and left in a hurry."

**"So I saved them, then."**

"No,_ I_ did. You had no idea what was going to happen. You were just the messenger. But that's not up for discussion. I didn't know where to go after that, so I sat around, sifting through the rubble and looking for a clue as to where she would have gone. The idea that she'd left me nothing, even if she'd never even known that I was coming, didn't enter my mind. To this day, I don't know why she did leave me anything. At the time, she was still furious with me."

**"What did she leave you?"**

"A corkboard. It was a big one, empty but for a single pin in it. I was at that house for six hours before I finally figured out what I was supposed to do with it. I found their map of the Black Sea on the second story and placed it perfectly on top of the board. The pin punched through the paper directly at a town called Sochi on the coast."

**"And so you went there."**

"Yes. Had to take a bloody bus, but I was there inside of a few hours. I figured by then that they were going to leave Russia. It was what I would have done in their place. And so I waited at the wharf all night, inhaling the disgusting scent of rotting fish but too wired on coffee to sleep at all. I second-guessed myself a lot in that time wondering if they had really managed to escape or if my father's men had just dragged them off. Maybe I'd had the map upside down on the board and they were actually back in Volgograd. Of course, I asked myself what I was doing there. Why did I even care about her?"

**"Still in denial?"**

"Only until about five that morning. That was when they finally arrived on the wharf, ready to set sail across the sea."

**"Was that when…?"**

"Yes. If you really need to pin it down to one moment when I realized I was in love with her, then yes, that was probably it—Hey! Don't go all weepy on me, because it was about as far from romantic as you can get."

**"Really?"**

"You be the judge. There I was; shivering in the cold on an oily, wooden crate at the ass-end of Russia, running on next-to-no-sleep and pure adrenaline, and wondering if throwing myself in the harbour would improve my horrible stench. I hadn't seen a bathroom in over six hours and the corn pastry... _thing_ I'd managed to choke down on the way there wasn't sitting too well. So yes, to sum it up, I was _beyond_ miserable. And I didn't think she was going to show up there anyway."

**"But she did."**

"It was a bloody miracle. And I didn't even spot her first. The first person I recognized was Dan as he stumbled up one of the piers yawning incessantly. It took a moment to register that it was actually him and not a hallucination. I guess I was just so exhausted that I couldn't tell the difference. Well, that, and he was so surrounded by those boorish thugs of yours that I barely caught a glimpse. At any rate, I didn't move until I caught sight of her."

**"Amy?"**

"Hey, you wanted a moment, right? That was the moment. I don't remember it with all that much clarity, to be honest. I don't remember what she was wearing or how her hair was. She could have been the ugliest creature on the planet; I probably still would have loved her. Because it was… well… _her_."

**"Tell me you were decent enough to say something then."**

"Since when have you ever accused me of decency? No, I didn't. Instead, I did one worse. And to be fair, I did warn you. I told you that I messed this up a good many times and that was precisely what I did here."

**"You didn't…"**

"Oh yes I did. It was a disaster. I called her stubborn bitch for not reading my warnings. I told her she might as well have given my father a ring and handed over their exact co-ordinates for how careless she'd been to let the Lucians find their safehouse. Did she know how much I was risking for this project? Did she know what would happen to me if she got caught? Did she even realize—What?! Don't _throw_ things at me! You wanted the truth, didn't you?"

**"You're a monster!"**

"Oh come off it!"

**"You _are!_ You claim to be in love with her, but the first thing you do is start blaming her! Why?"**

"Because I was angry and frustrated and I didn't know what I wanted. After the hell I'd been through, time for dealing with the chaos of extreme emotions had not really been available. I'd been numb for hours, sitting there at the wharf, but when I saw Amy, the dam broke and I ended up drowning her in it. I'm not saying I handled it well, because I didn't really. But if I were to excuse it, I'd just say that I'd like to see you try dealing with a first love while battling panic, terror, injustice and rage at the same time."

**"… you're still a monster."**

"Big surprise that you take her side… She didn't let me get away with that, mind you. No, Amy got her licks in. She screeched and yelled right back. Told me I was a spoiled brat who should have caught the intelligence breach in the first place. That I had no idea what life had been like for her. And that if I hadn't overreacted to a damn present, none of this would have been an issue. All without a single stutter."

**"Impressive."**

"Shocked me all right. I think Dan was a little stunned too. Amy just moved on though, trembling slightly either from shock at her own actions or out of rage, turned and got onto the awaiting tanker that would take them as far as Istanbul. I was gaping after her, feeling my cheeks burn in humiliation. Because I hadn't realized until then that that was not what I had wanted to say to her at all. And I might never have had the chance to straighten things out if it hadn't been for Dan. Suppose I owe the dweeb that much."

**"Dan?"**

"Amy never told you? He invited me on board. Don't know why exactly, and it was conditional on the fact that I take a shower and change clothes before I went anywhere near them, but he did. If I had to take a guess why, I think it might have been the fact that they were probably running low on funds. I don't think it was out of pity."

**"And you apologized?"**

"Not right away. We had a day and a half until we reached Istanbul. I spent the earlier hours of that sleeping on a lower bunk. Can't blame me, really. I was beyond tired after everything that had happened. By the time I woke up, it was almost dinner time and they were passing out microwave meals in the lower deck. Mine had liquefied meatballs and dried-out noodles, but it was the most appetizing thing I've ever eaten. Amy wouldn't look or speak to me the entire time though, which was a little depressing. I was over being mad at her and back to feeling like an idiot for handling it like that."

**"But you spoke to her?"**

"Later that night. We picked up speed for some unknown reason and the tilt and sway of the ship did some rather rude things to my stomach. I'd never been that seasick in my life, but that night, I spent my midnight hours gripping the rusty iron rail with white knuckles and heaving over the side. I wanted to die right then. Well… not really, but I remember feeling pretty low as I hung my head over the railing, gasping for air.

"'St-Stop that! Y-You're going to get yourself killed.'

"That's what she said to me, setting down the mugs that she had brought up from below and grabbing me by the elbow to pull me away. Amy led me back down to the common room and made me sit with a bucket between my legs while I sipped some flat soda. It was humiliating to be there, unable to speak for fear of vomiting up the little that was left in my stomach. But she eventually took my hand and we talked. I apologized, she apologized and we sank back into an awkward silence."

**"And then?"**

"Nothing."

**"Nothing?"**

"That was it. No easy banter. No chatting about books or the weather. No flirting. I'll be honest, my memories of that night are really hazy at best and what I'm telling you is what Amy told me after the fact. Because apparently my indifference —or just not acknowledging everything that had passed between us in the last few months—was what really hurt her. She thought it was a sign that I'd just been playing with her again and proceeded to hate me for it. Eventually, Amy got up and went back to sleep, leaving me alone with my bucket. I'll admit that I was out of it, but it didn't completely escape my notice that she was still mad at me and that left me wondering. Maybe apologies weren't enough; maybe we were damaged beyond repair."

**"But you weren't."**

"No, but it was damn close. That's the nice thing about dating her now; it's like getting to look in the back of the book for the answers to the questions that stumped you before. I didn't know then that she wanted more than an apology. I didn't know that every time that night when she had squeezed her hand into mine or brushed the sweat-soaked hair from my face that she wanted something more from me—"

**"You didn't notice that?"**

"Hey! Hitting on her wasn't as high on my list of priorities right then. I had other things on my mind. Like not throwing up on her. Or snapping at her in my misery and messing things up again. I don't know, maybe stuttering is contagious too because that night, I couldn't seem to form a complete sentence. I was bloody awful."

**"And then you went your separate ways?"**

"In Istanbul. I used a fake passport and flew to Paris for the remainder of my 'trip' to pick up a few souvenirs for my family, just so that they'd be convinced I'd actually gone. Forged some pictures too. I really couldn't be too careful. And Amy… her and Dan both flew on to America to finish their work there. They rented a small house with my funds, said good-bye to your useless henchmen, and continued keeping in touch with me for about a month, although she didn't write as often and we never used the webcam again."

**"So you thought you had blown it?"**

"Completely, and it haunted me for weeks. Not like after Korea; this was… real. I don't like reliving what that was like, so I'm not going into details. But then the tide turned from bad to worse. And this time, it wasn't Amy and Dan that were in danger; it was me."

**"Ahh yes... Natalie."**

"Dear Natalie; my sweet baby sister and very nearly my downfall. How many people can claim that about their family? I wonder…"

**"You were careless with that."**

"Amy was careless. I just paid the price. I swear, the number of times that that sodding movie almost cost me my life… you know, I didn't even _like_ it? Amy says it's brilliant and all that rubbish about it being significant for us, but honestly! It's not even realistic! As if M16 would ever operate like—"

**"You're missing the point. It's a memento of your relationship."**

"Bullocks. It's just a bad movie."

**"Oh for the love of… How did you win her again?"**

"If I had an answer for that, this wouldn't be taking so long now, would it?"

**"…I suppose not."**

"But it's a lousy movie, you agree with that, right? You're ex-KGB. You know they don't operate like that. It's complete bunk—"

**"I didn't call you here to debate realism in movies! I want to hear the rest of this story. Stop getting sidetracked!"**

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A/N: I'm sorry I took so long to post this chapter. Life has been nuts lately and I haven't had the time to sit down and write. Hope next week is a little better. But please review! I love hearing what you guys think!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: For the record, I have NOTHING against America, Russia or Detroit. In fact, I'm actually a Detroit Red Wings fan, but the character I'm writing is a complete snob and not shy with his opinions, so this is where it led me. I hope I haven't offended anyone, but if I have, please note that it wasn't my intention.

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Chapter 5

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"I don't remember how long it was before things really deteriorated at home. But sometime after my trip to Russia—and I swear to you, I am never going back—Natalie made her stand. If I'd been paying attention, I would have picked up on it sooner. The suspicious looks that she kept giving me, the rearranged stacks of paper on my desk at home, the surreptitious mention of the Cahills every now and then. But like I said, my mind was elsewhere."

**"On Amy?"**

"Yes. I missed her, even after having been quite used to not seeing her on a regular basis. But there was a new development that really had me steaming and frustrated: she had a new boyfriend."

**"A boyfriend?"**

"I believe his name was Zack. Dreadfully American, isn't it? I don't know when she had the time to go out and meet him while she was supposed to be working on the research surrounding the Orion project, but she did. Of course, that was the excuse I employed to reason away any jealousy. After all, it was a nice comforting justification for why I had half a mind to charge across the Atlantic and demand she end things with him."

**"Amy never mentioned him."**

"I'm not surprised. He didn't stay in the picture very long. At least not after what happened with us. I did have an inkling of what Natalie was up to, though I should have taken it a little more seriously. I guess a part of me believed that, even if she found out, she'd confront me about it first. Apparently I didn't know her well enough."

**"How did it start?"**

"Well, Father called me to his study that last night I was there. I didn't think too much of it, to tell the truth. Not until I saw that Natalie was standing next to his chair, a frosty look on her face that told me something was off. I'll tell you, he was very serious about it. He informed me, in that accusatory way of his, that someone had been deleting highly-classified e-mails from his account that were monitoring activity in Russia. I'm surprised he had the courtesy to _ask_ me what I knew about it."

**"What did you tell him?"**

"I'd lived with him long enough to know what answer would satisfy him. Keeping my features in a look of wry amusement, I lied calmly and told him that I'd seen Natalie at work in his office at odd hours of the night. I was betraying my mother and father; was it such a leap to betray Natalie as well? Yes, that sounds horrible, but by then, my conscience on this matter was so long forgotten that I barely flinched. And her face said it all. Horrified, she started spitting at me, telling Father that I was in league with the Cahills and helping them assemble the clues. I would have been outraged at her spite and betrayal if it hadn't all been true. She accused me of being in love with Amy—which was also true, but not something I was prepared to own to—and pointed to the DVD as proof."

**"What did you do?"**

"I sniffed scornfully, acting as though all of this was beneath me. 'Really, Father. Why do you listen to her? She's a child. If you honestly think this anything more than a grab for attention, you're a fool.'"

**"Wow… that was gutsy."**

"I'd never insulted him before, in implication or otherwise. My own bravado scared the hell out of me, but it felt exhilarating. Vikram wasn't so easily convinced though. He produced the DVD from within his desk and challenged me to explain who it came from. I told them that you had sent it with proposition for sharing the rewards. The receipt attached to it should have told him as much. I bashed you considerably just for good measure."

**"You'd _never_ take joy in that."**

"Perish the thought… I think he believed me, although he did ream me for not reporting this to him sooner, but Natalie was raging mad. After Father dismissed the both of us, she rounded on me with all the contempt in the world. She screeched that I was selling out the entire family for some cheap American slut. It's funny, looking back on it, I didn't see our friendship ending like that. In my mind's eye, I always pictured us sticking together to the end. We were close during the hunt, even if she did drive me batty sometimes. Then again, I didn't really see myself falling for Amy either, or standing at your bedside as you kicked the bucket. Life's twisted like that."

**"Agreed."**

"… That was the night I ran away from home. I don't know if it was premature or not. Maybe I would have lasted a few more days before Father started having me tailed around school and to the internet café. I could probably have kept it up for a month, but I didn't want to. The Sword of Damocles was dangling and I wasn't about to push my luck."

**"That was when you went to America?"**

"Detroit. If there is a bigger sink-hole in the world, I haven't found it. Except maybe Chechnya; you Russians really did a number on your own people. But it was cheap housing and you could be as anonymous as you liked if you just flashed a bit of cash. Oddly enough, Amy looks back on those times fondly. I think she really was happy living there, although I haven't the foggiest idea why. Maybe it had something to do with being back in America."

**"Does she look back fondly on living with you?"**

"Ha! No! And for that, I can't say I blame her. I didn't particularly go out of my way to make myself a good houseguest. Perhaps it was my approach. Dropping in on them like that probably wasn't the greatest entrance I could have made."

**"You didn't—"**

"I showed up on their doorstop at three am with my suitcase in hand looking for a place to stay. Dan answered the door with a baseball bat clutched in his hands as though prepared to wallop me if I put a toe out of line. He wasn't pleased with me for coming to them and it took a lot of convincing before Amy and Dan agreed to let me stay with them. She told me later that she had been terrified of the idea, worried that it might reawaken all those old feelings that she'd had for me and upset things with Zack."

**"And? Did it?"**

"What do _you_ think?"

**"… I think that's pathetic."**

"It was necessary. I was destitute. I didn't have any money but the cash on me. Credit cards were traceable and if I dared to make a withdrawal, I'd put all of us in danger. It was my last option. Amy had nothing to do with it."

**"You're a liar."**

"Yes. But I was charming and I had my uses. Our landlady had a platonic crush on me. All I had to do was agree to have afternoon tea with her once a week and our rent suddenly started dropping. It was the damnedest thing. Amy of course found it completely reprehensible and told me so nearly every time that I returned back to our hovel. I think she was just jealous."

**"That _is_ reprehensible."**

"But you can't deny that it worked for me. You know, they say being poor is difficult. That you have to struggle harder than anyone to get what you need out of life. In my experience, that's all rubbish. Being poor was easy! Not _fun_, but easy. And making cash was even easier. One day, I walked into a bank, no personal information on me, and walked out with a full-time job—just because I was dressed well and could converse intelligently about stocks, bonds and mutual funds. Never mind the fact that I wasn't seventeen yet and didn't have a work visa; I was still employable."

**"You worked in a bank?"**

"When I was bored. Most days I just called in sick. And did that _ever_ make Amy angry. They were stalled in their progress as you had yet to deliver the last few ingredients to us, but none of us could enroll in school while we were still fugitives. Dan worked as a paperboy and Amy as a cashier at a dumpy little supermarket. Both of them had long hours for the measly amount that they earned. I think she was expecting me to feel bad about not working when they did, but I never found that emotion. Eventually I was fired, after which Amy didn't speak to me civilly for nearly a week."

**"I would have kicked you to the curb."**

"At first, I wondered why she didn't. Dan certainly hinted at it enough, but every time that he did, Amy would clam up and refuse to discuss it. After a while, I did figure it out-- I'm sure you can too-- but why would I ruin a good thing? Well, a sort of good thing. There was one little dark spot in this living arrangement."

**"The boyfriend."**

"It was vomit-inducing. I don't know how she met him, at her job maybe? She'd bring him home about once a week after one of her shifts. At first, I holed up in my room like a pissy coward, brooding about how she should have been mine, and wait until he left to make my snide comments. And was there ever a lot to poke fun at! Physically, he had nothing on me. I don't know why she set her standards so low. He had a face pockmarked with freckles and acne and these awful spectacles that he liked to think made him look like John Lennon. Not to mention his voice cracked every time he spoke."

**"The poor boy."**

"I wish I had a picture of the chap just to show you. It was unbelievable. But eventually, I started plotting to dispose of him. It wasn't a sophisticated plan on that end. Just a bit of poking and prodding at the right times. I made it a point to call her 'love' whenever he was around, a touch on her shoulder or elbow if he was looking and then the humiliating conversations that I held to 'get to know' him. Those were _magic_."

**"Don't tell me…"**

"Why not? You wanted to hear it. And I'm sure you'll get some the same sort of vindictive glee out of it that I did. You're a Lucian, aren't you? I had him believing the most ridiculous misinformation about Britain and the world. For instance; I told him that the Queen was considered the one true deity in England and it was against the law to worship any other God. God, he was gullible… Eventually, of course, he learned not to trust me at all and I had to use a lot more backhanded British subtlety to make an idiot out of him, but those were equally amusing. Not that Amy was blind to any of what I was doing; she despised me for it. More than she already did."

**"I fail to see how any of this would've won her over."**

"That wasn't the point. The point was to get rid of our dear _Zachary_. And it took much longer than I thought to get his claws out of her. After I started preying on him at our house, she stopped bringing him around. It annoyed me that she had taken my toy away, but I wasn't about to give up. Lucky for me, that was around the time that you arrived with a few of the final items, so Amy and Dan spent most of their time studying their properties and running various tests. You remember that by that point Orion had just been started. Their job until then had been to hoard the ingredients and to puzzle out the best way to combine them. Now, she had that formula. And she was slowly putting together that first mixture. It was a hard, tedious job that I washed my hands of; I'd already fulfilled my part of the deal, why would I lift a finger to help them?"

**"Typical…"**

"But I did. Help them, that is. Or rather, I helped _Amy _when she was working in the lab. How exactly could I pass up that opportunity? Granted, she tried to shoo me away most of the time, but on the odd evenings when she was tired and let her guard down around me, she'd start talking again, like we were old friends. It's strange, but those quiet nights were the best of my life up until then. I think it was after then that she stopped stuttering around me—for the most part. If I 'accidentally' touched her in any way, even innocently, she'd turn bright red and stammer as she either ran off or pushed me away."

**"It's shocking that you are this horrible with women."**

"Not women. Just Amy. And in my defence, I had a lot to make up for that I didn't even realize. Because she liked me then, a lot. She just didn't trust me at all. And how was I supposed to have known that?"

**"… Am I supposed to dignify that with an answer?"**

"Says the woman dying_ alone_ in a hospital bed. You know, if you weren't so prickly, you might have a few loved ones holding your hand rather than sitting on your rump living vicariously through my life. Just a thought."

**"You're not here to share your opinions, boy."**

"No, I'm here because _you_ harassed Amy who then harassed _me_ into coming. Don't think that sympathy or our farcical family bond has anything to do with this whatsoever. As far as I'm concerned, I owe you nothing."

**"Ha! That's rich! You'd be a beggar out on the streets if it weren't for what I did for you! And that wasn't even part of the contract; you seem to be forgetting that."**

"It wasn't out of the good in your heart either."

**"I could still have you thrown out of the Lucian court right now if I wanted!"**

"But you won't, because you like Amy too much to do that. And you know as rightly as I do that that would be a death sentence for the both of us. Or have you not thought it through that far?"

**"… You really believe that Vikram would—?"**

"Don't tell me that you've picked _now_ to start thinking well of him? Come on! You've known him longer than_ I_ have, and he's my bloody _father_! Of course he'd kill her. In a heartbeat. And killing me? Well, he couldn't do it when he first tracked me down, but now...?"

**"Are we at that part already?"**

"Yes."

**"…"**

"…"

**"Well then?"**

"Oh, give me half a moment! I'd rather we just skip over it altogether."

**"You're not skipping anything. And my time is limited. You can wallow in self pity later; right now, I want to hear about you and him."**

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A/N: If you though Vikram Kabra was evil before... well, you'll see.

Please review! My schedule is getting so ridiculous now that it might be a couple weeks before the next one is up. But if there's a really decent response on this, I'll rush through the editing process and get it to you next week.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I gave it my best, and while I didn't completely skip editing, I did cut it back a little. This chapter is really a half-chapter of a much longer chapter. The latter part, which involves Vikram Kabra, isn't finished yet. Thank you to the reviewers! Your responses were great and I really appreciate it.

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canucks!

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Chapter 6

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"I should explain that if it weren't for the wonders of modern technology and a few tracking secrets that I picked up, not only would I have been bored out of my skull in that dump, but there's a good chance that Amy and Dan would have been long dead by now."

**"I thought you were broke."**

"Amy had the sense to buy a few things before I was forced to run away from home. So, yes, our pipes were leaking, there was a gaping hole in the floorboards underneath Dan's bed and we ate cereal three meals a day, but we had a desktop with a 4Ghz quad core processor, 10 gigabytes of ram and a blue ray player in the basement. It was probably the most beautiful machine you'd ever see. But we used it for nothing more than keeping information on spreadsheets, playing solitaire, and the obsessive passport and credit card tracking that I did in my spare time."

**"Who were you tracking?"**

"You, for one. I wanted to see where and when you spent money. For the most part, I don't think you wasted a lot, but there were a few upgraded seats to first class airfare that didn't escape my attention. You can reimburse me for those in your will—"

**"That wasn't even _your _money! Your father gave it to you."**

"Speaking of whom, he was the other name on my spy list. And probably the more important one, just because you were only slightly less likely to fly into Detroit unexpectedly and kill all of us in our sleep. I was worried about him since I'd left home. Yes, I'd done well with covering my tracks, but when you're the son of the leader of the most powerful organization on Earth, there is only so long that you can hide. And I knew right away that he was looking for me. I set a few red herrings off in the database, which I knew he would jump at. And sure enough, he dispatched his cronies to far-off places like I knew he would."

**"Your father is not someone I would ever want looking for me."**

"Yeah. It was pretty terrifying at first. I tried to convince the two of them to take a bus with me to a different, more remote location in the States. They refused, of course and I grew tired of asking and just continued monitoring my father's activity. Every now and then, I threw him another test, using various pseudonyms of his that I knew would mean something. After a while, it just became an obsessive habit that I performed and the seriousness of what I was doing was sort of lost."

**"Is that why he found you?"**

"No. And he never found me; _I_ found _him_."

**"That doesn't make any sense."**

"It did if you were in my position. But let me explain what went on that night before we launch into what happened with Vikram. Because that involves Amy and it was… of _some_ importance."

**"Very well."**

"You remember the boyfriend? Our favourite Beatles wannabe? Sadly, he didn't last. You see, I ran into him one day as I was waiting to pick Amy up from a late shift at her work. I'd done it once or twice before as a stand-in for Zack or Dan—although that in itself was a bit of an insult. He showed up on a night that was supposed to have been mine, with this smug look on his face as though he'd won something over me. Of course, I couldn't have him getting a big head like that; that would've been rude…"

**"Hmm. So what did the pot tell the kettle?"**

"Merely that she'd asked for me specifically tonight because we had personal matters to discuss that he couldn't be present for. That idea rankled him, but like a good Pavlovian subject, he'd learned not to trust a word of what I told him and stuck around to hear Amy confirm it. I didn't know that it would work, in all honesty; Zack had a car and all I had was a lie about something urgent. But it did. And quite spectacularly too, I might add. Amy took me seriously and thanked Zack for coming, but told him that she would be walking home with me."

**"I imagine that went over well…"**

"It was a thing of beauty. He got offended when Amy tried to explain it to him and accused her of cheating. Bloody drama queen— again, I wonder why she ever went out with him. Amy denied it of course: how could he even think that she had any interest in me? I ignored that and kept my peace, just enjoying the fireworks that I had set off, until Zack got overbearing and caused Amy to start stuttering. That was when I stepped in and led her away, telling the prick to leave off or I'd call the police. He had a few parting words for both me and Amy as we walked off that apparently stung quite a bit because she was crying by the time we were out of sight."

**"Were they broken up?"**

"In the sense that they didn't get back together after that, yes. But, chronologically speaking, that would have happened anyways. We walked together and I listened as she blubbered at the unfairness of having to keep everything about herself a secret and how she just wished she could explain it to him. I was annoyed at Zack for making her cry, but I refused to feel bad for what I'd done—why would I? I'd gotten precisely what I'd wanted."

**"Don't tell me that she fell for you because of that."**

"Well—"

**"That's _despicable_! Even for a Lucian! I_ knew_ there was no way that Amy would ever fall for your nonsense under honest pretences! You're a damn snake—!"**

"Calm down before you pull out your IV, you stupid old bat! It didn't happen like that, as nice and _uncomplicated_ as that would have been. So please, just shut up, sit there like the damn invalid that you are and listen to me _without _passing judgment… Can you do that?"

**"Don't you patronize me!"**

"Don't interrupt… All right, where was I?"

**"The walk home."**

"Right. That was uneventful. I got to put my arm around her without getting snapped at, but that was it. And by the time we reached our shack, she had stopped crying long enough to ask me what it was that you had sent that was so important."

**"Uh oh."**

"I should have just made something up. Honesty is never the best policy; utter morons invented that proverb. But, being the idiot that I was, I merely shrugged and said that you hadn't sent anything in a few days— and regretted it the moment the words left my mouth. Her eyes locked on mine in this horrified stare and her mouth dropped open in outrage. I think there were a few seconds where we stood on our front lawn in silence, just staring at each other. Then she started shouting at me, demanding to know why I had done it.

...................................

'_You _asked_ for me. That's why. And did you think I wanted a backseat pass to watching him feel you up in the car? No thanks.' _

'_So you broke up our relationship?!' _

'_Not on purpose.' I said with such flat affect that it stunned even me, 'You can blame your sweetheart's paranoid streak for that.'_

'_Zack wasn't paranoid! You were actively _trying_ to sabotage us! Why did you do it? Why couldn't you even make an effort to like him?'_

'_Because he's a loser.' I growled, feeling more than a little angry with her by then. What I'd said was a brush off. I didn't want to talk or get to the root of this problem between us. Because I knew what she wasn't seeing and I was sick and tired of dancing around it, but addressing it up front wasn't something I was prepared to do. _

'_That's not why!'_

'_Then because he's a bleeding moron—is there a point to this?'_

'_That's not why either!' she cried advancing on me, 'Admit it! You really can't stand to see me happy! You can't stand the fact that you're miserable and so you have to make other people around you just as miserable! Which is why you drove off the first boy to ever show any interest in me—'_

'_You mean the second.'_

'_What?'_

'_Christ! For a genius, you can be so bloody stupid sometimes!' I told her in exasperation, deciding then that being mean about it was better than getting a rejection. And if she really was that blind to how I felt about her, she deserved to be called an idiot. Heck, I might have called her worse, but instead, I turned to go. _

'_Oh no! N-Not a chance! I am n-not going through this again!" Amy stuttered, her voice breaking miserably as she did and ending it with a half-whispered cry, "I'm not going to j-just let you toy with me!" _

'_I'm not—…!' I started off indignantly, but it faded almost the instant I saw her face._

_I don't think I've ever seen anything so broken and wretched in all my life. She was staring at me with tears in her eyes and the same heartbreak that I'd been suffering for the past two months reflecting back at me. It undid me to see exactly what I'd caused with all of my scheming and indecision. Seeing what I'd just about destroyed. _

_And seeing my chance. _

'_I'd never toy with you.' I answered softly, daring a few steps towards her._

_She just shook her head, seeming to shrink as I approached. Her lower lip quivered and she opened her mouth, presumably to tell me off, but no sound came forth. For a second, it looked like I was about to get hell for what I'd said. But instead, uncertainty flickered across her face and I could see her caving, letting her guard down once more. She wanted so very much to believe me._

'_I swear, Amy.' I said, reaching for her. She looked mesmerized by what was happening between us, watching everything and taking in nothing. My hand found hers and I twined our fingers together. The contact seemed to free up her voice. _

'_Don't,' she whispered, staring up at me with lips parted and a look in her eyes like she wanted the exact opposite of what she was saying, 'Ian… please…'_

'_I'm never going to hurt you,' I promised, my face hovering closer to hers, 'Just give me a chance…'_

_And then I kissed her. Tentatively at first; I wasn't entirely certain about how she felt. But then she started to respond, her lips moving softly and hesitantly against mine as her eyes fluttered closed. I took it as incentive wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer. And for a whole two and a half seconds, life was perfect. Amy was finally mine! After months of frustration and jealousy, here she was. But then—_

'_No!' Amy choked out against my mouth, shoving me away from her. She backed up rapidly, a look of horror on her face and a hand over her mouth as though completely disgusted at what she just done. _

'_What do you mean '_no_'?' I demanded of her a little too sharply. My brain struggled to put together something intelligent to say to her but couldn't get past the rejection. _

'_N-N-No!' She cried at me through a sob, the tears beginning to flow freely down her bright-red cheeks. Her breathing kept hitching loudly and I was afraid she'd hyperventilate, 'I-I can't…I c-can't—'_

'_Calm down,' I tried to soothe her, but she just wound up backing up further away from me like a spooked deer. _

'_No!' she yelled again, suddenly incensed, 'I c-can't trust you! A-after everything you've done, I-I can't! I… n-not again.' _

'_This isn't a game. I wouldn't—!'_

'_You think I can't s-see it? Y-You only want me b-because you c-couldn't have me before! I'm n-not stupid, Ian!' she said with surprising venom in her voice despite the stammer._

'_Apparently you are!' I snarled right back at her, 'You don't have the sense to see this for what it is! I'm in _love_ with you, Amy!'_

_She froze at my declaration, eyes wide in shock. I was trying to get myself under control, but never for a second did I regret saying it. If anything, I wished then that I'd said it sooner. I wished I'd said it on that pier in Chechnya; I wished I'd said it the day she came to me with the contract; I wished I'd said it all the way back in Korea. Any of those would have been better than feeling her silence waft over the both of us, my heart thudding painfully in my chest as I prayed she'd tell me the same. _

'_G-Get out,' she told me instead, her eyes falling shut, unable to look at me. Her brow furrowed in anger and she started shaking again, 'G-Go! Get out! GET OUT!" _

_.........................._

"I don't think I believed that it was real at the time. After everything we'd gone through, together and apart, this was how she was going to leave it? Surely there was more symmetry in the cosmos than that."

**"She really…? Oh, Amy…"**

"… Wish I could say it went differently. But that was it. She told me that I had until tomorrow to find my own place and then stomped back up the steps and into the house. I was numb and still standing on the front lawn, wondering just how the hell that had happened. How did I keep doing that?"

**"Jerking her around probably didn't help, but… she really is too smart for her own good."**

"Careful there. One would almost think you _wanted_ us to be together…"

**"Hn. I take it there was more to that night?"**

"You might say that. I didn't leave, if you can believe it. Or at least, I didn't intend to. What right did Amy have to kick me out of a house that I contributed rent to? Granted, I don't know if my stubbornness was more about proprietorship or that I wanted to force her to deal with me in the light of day. I'm not saying it was the most mature thing I could have done, but it's how I felt. Amy locked herself in her room so that she wouldn't have to speak to me and I retreated to the basement to brood as I did my online checks."

**"Don't tell me you'd given up?"**

"I don't know. At that point, maybe I still had a little bit of hope. She might wake up the next morning and decide that she couldn't live without me, or something equally ridiculous. But right then, I was more on auto-pilot than anything else. I stayed up until about two that night, playing freecell as the machine did its work in the background. I couldn't go to sleep until it had finished its job, not that I would have slept as it was, so perhaps it didn't matter all that much."

**"Amy never came to see you?"**

"No. And I didn't see her for a while after that night. Because, as I was starting to nod off in my chair, the most irritating beeping noise roused me. I couldn't understand where it was coming from at first— like when a cell phone goes off in the middle of a meeting and you glare daggers into everyone else before realizing that it's yours. It was then that I noticed that a few small, red numbers were flashing on the monitor with a name highlighted below it. There he was: Vikram Kabra, on a 5:30AM chartered flight into Detroit Metro Airport."

**"You're joking!"**

"Wish I was. My blood ran cold in my veins and my mind almost completely shut off. All I could do was gape at the flashing name, almost uncomprehendingly. I couldn't even pretend to myself that this was just a coincidence—that he'd flown in for a meeting or conference. No, he'd come for _me_."

**"But…! _How_? How did he find you?"**

"To this day, I don't know. Father wasn't very forthcoming with that information. He was a more concerned with other things."

**"You mean your betrayal?"**

"Ha! No. You give him too much credit. I meant the 39 clues. He didn't _care_ that I'd run away from home to go live with Amy and Dan or that I'd handed them the clues that we'd collected. No. What had him in a snit was that I hadn't brought the finalized ingredients list to him—that was the real issue."

**"That doesn't surprise me. He is so… emotionally detached."**

"… Maybe. But there are times in my childhood that I think he wasn't always like that. When Grace died and the hunt was started, something in him changed. He became… obsessed, I suppose. In that all-consuming sort of way."

**"That doesn't excuse what he planned to do—"**

"—but never got the chance."

**"Oh, he was far from innocent before that, I assure you. Your mother may have sheltered you from his misdeeds, but that doesn't mean they didn't happen."**

"So does the fact that we ruined an evil man as opposed to a virtuous man erase our guilt?"

**"Unbelievable. I can _hear_ you channelling Amy when you talk like that."**

"I'm being serious."

**"Very well, if we _must_ address this… if you're looking to torment yourself over what we did, I'm not going to stop you. But just envision what he would have done if we hadn't made our deal."**

"I don't _torment_ myself. And I don't regret what happened either; if I had to do things over again, I'd choose the same. But just remember that we aren't so innocent either."

**"…"**

"Especially not you. I mean, you're an ex-KGB _assassin_. If that isn't reason enough for you to burn, I don't know what is—"

**"Enough! Either get on with it or get _out_!"**

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A/N: Let me know what you think about the short 'flashback' in this chapter. I really need your input here because what you tell me will influence how I write the rest of the story.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Another dramatic chapter with (surprise!) another cliffhanger! I'm predictable, yes, but this one was actually intentional. I didn't mean to leave you with the last one; the sixth and the seventh were supposed to be combined, but I ran out of time last week. I tried to up the humor content, but it didn't really work. I'll give it another try in the next chapter. Thanks goes out to those people who reviewed. We're over the halfway mark for this story, as far as the plan in my head goes. Thanks for sticking with me so far!

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Chapter 7

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"So, we've come to the part which, to this day, Amy still gives me grief over. It would figure, of course; the _one_ heroic deed that I perform in my life is the one that she will never let me live down."

**"I'm surprised you performed _that_ many. What was it?"**

"... I hesitate to tell you this mostly because you'll just think I was being a martyr—which is pathetic, because that's just a vain grab for public immortality. May I just clarify that this wasn't the case: martyrs go into a dangerous situation _knowing_ they're going to die for a cause they believe in. I'm not that stupid. I went into my dangerous situation because I knew I _wasn't_ going to die. And I didn't have a _cause_ either, just a desire to be the head of the Lucian branch. Yes, there were other things that were important— like not letting my father destroy the world and protecting the girl I loved—but if you ignore those, my motives were purely selfish."

**"Very relieved to hear it."**

"Now then, I packed up everything that we'd put together with the 39 clues, including the oily, grey-green substance contained inside an empty beer bottle that would, one day, become the very first sample of Orion. All files on the computer, I saved and loaded onto a USB key, erasing everything we'd ever put on there (except for my beloved freecell scores). I printed off bus tickets that would take the two of them as far west as Denver and notified you of where they'd be. Because I wasn't going with them. I was going to meet my father."

**"Sounds like a stupid idea."**

"No! It made _perfect_ sense. What I needed to do was to protect our project, and that involved getting Amy and Dan out of there and to keep them from being followed. If my father thought he could get his answers from me, he might stop looking for them long enough for the Cahills to create Orion and for you to take credit for it. "

**"… I still say you should have gone with them."**

"Maybe. But I didn't, so let's not debate what _never_ happened. I didn't tell Amy or Dan where I was going. When I left the house that morning, they were still fast asleep, utterly unaware of the very lethal threat that was headed their way. I took nothing with me but the clothes on my back and enough money for a taxi to the airport."

**"Please tell me you at least had the sense to arm yourself?"**

"Against Father? Not much point in that. He had henchmen and I didn't even own a gun. Besides, you _know_ the penalty for killing another member of the Lucian family… I was counting on the fact that Vikram did too. But still, doubts lingered in the back of my mind. There were worse things that my father could do than killing me. Far worse. And I had an hour to mull those over as I waited in baggage collection for his flight to land."

**"Do you think he was expecting to see you?"**

"No. I'm fairly certain of that. He probably thought he had the advantage over me—which, undoubtedly he did— but I didn't come completely unprepared. Father halted when he first laid eyes on me, causing the parade of Lucians surrounding him to stop short as well. The man didn't even have to say anything to express just how much peril I was in; that cold stare was all he needed to send chills ripping through me. I realized then just how terrifying it was to have Vikram Kabra as an enemy."

**"I should think the stranger thing would be to have him as your father, but go on."**

"He didn't even want an explanation as to why I'd done it. I'm still not entirely sure why not. Maybe he assumed that Natalie had been correct and that it was all about Amy. Or maybe he just didn't care. But whatever the reason, Father never asked. Instead, he simply raised an unamused brow and made a sharp-tongued comment about the return of his 'Prodigal Son.' I had to smirk at that, thinking he'd make a terrible Compassionate Father. In response though, I replied that I merely needed to speak with him and that this was, by no means, a request to return. He didn't take well to my newly-found independence and sniffed condescendingly. Rather than considering it, he informed me brusquely that we would be flying back to Britain and, should I refuse, he would have no reservations about using force."

**"Hold on. I thought you_ wanted_ to have him take you back to Britain?"**

"I did, but I couldn't very well let Father think I had a plan."

**"But you _didn't_ have a plan."**

"Well… Not a _great _plan, but enough of one to know that staying in Detroit wasn't an option. Besides, I missed having nice clothes and good food. And it wouldn't have been permanent— after all, I was only acting as a distraction for Vikram until you and Amy claimed victory. Then I'd be free to do as I liked."

**"… Perhaps there was _some_ merit to it. But you did underestimate him."**

"Did I ever. He left four of his henchmen, (ironically enough, two of which I recognized from the Tomas branch) on the ground as we climbed into the private jet and took off. At first, his silence as he sat opposite me made me tense up. I wanted him to rant and rage about how I'd been a terrible son and Lucian. That would at least have masked the seriousness of what this was with the semblance of a father/son dispute. But Vikram treated me exactly like one of his hired thugs; with the same collected, unemotional demeanour that he used in unseemly business arrangements. He waited until we were in the air and all other Lucians were out of earshot before he made his threats."

**"Threats?"**

"Perhaps that's the wrong word. It wasn't so much a threat as an explanation of what was _going_ to happen to me, regardless of what I did. Because, there was only one thing he wanted out of me, and there was no question in his mind that he was going to get it."

**"What was that?"**

"The last of the 39 clues."

**"I'm curious. What did he offer you in exchange for them?"**

"Freedom. He promised to let me go should I tell him the five missing ingredients that Amy and Dan had come across that we hadn't. Funny how he offered me the very thing that I _didn't_ want. If I refused or gave him the wrong information, I'd spend the rest of my life inside an asylum, devoid of any contact from the outside world. Wasn't very generous of him-- I mean, he could at _least_ have thrown in a car for my seventeenth birthday--but he was still very convinced that I'd accept the deal.

**"But you didn't."**

"No, but I couldn't refuse him outright. I needed to stall long enough to buy the two of them some time to reach Denver. So, I told him to give Amy and Dan a safe pass first and then I'd think about it. He could always revoke it later if we didn't come to an agreement."

**"My God. That sounds downright _logical_…."**

"Thank you. It was a brilliant plan. And would have gone off without a hitch if my father had been anywhere near the reasonable man that he usually is. But, for once, he let his emotions ride high and it cut my plan off at the knees."

**"I'm guessing he refused?"**

"He did, laughing as he had whenever he defeated me at chess through my own folly. It was eerie, because in that moment, that laugh seemed to issue from a completely different man than the one that had held my hand as I crossed the street or read Dickens novels to me as a child. In some ways, I'd always known the cold-hearted creature that I saw before me existed, but had kept it in my blind spot. Now that it stared me in the face, fully prepared to carry out his threats as though he didn't know me from Adam, I saw the real ugliness in him. Strangely enough, it didn't scare me as I had always believed it would; it made me pity him."

**"Oh. I see." **

"I needed to see it sometime. It was just a shame that that one time had to be then. Vikram pulled out his mobile and placed it on the table between us, a zealous smirk lighting up his features. He told me that in ten minutes, he was going to receive a call confirming that my 'girlfriend' and her brother had been executed. Since I hadn't jumped at the deal, I now had until the phone's first ring to explain to him why it was that he shouldn't put a bullet in my head too."

**"Excuse me…?! No! There is no way—!"**

"It's what he said."

**"You're_ lying_. He wouldn't—!"**

"It's the truth."

**"…How could…_anyone_…?"**

"Yes, well, he_ didn't _do it. I've given that moment a lot of thought and I honestly believe that he never meant to go through with it. I've seen him interrogate other Lucians using the same threat and every one of them are still living. See, he's not stupid; he knows the penalty for following through. In my case, I think he was resigned to the fact that I could never be reintegrated into the family after all that had happened. And that hurt him. He doesn't like to answer to real emotions—he's stunted that way or something—and so he relies on logic. Logic dictated that he should treat me as though I were anyone else. But if it ever came down to pulling that trigger... he wouldn't have. Again, not an excuse, but an explanation."

**"How did you talk him out of killing you?"**

"It's funny. I know I stared at the mobile for a full five seconds before my brain thawed and I realized that he was serious. Sitting back in my chair, I tried to think and reason my way out of it, but panic crept up on me. Already, I was defeating myself; he was Vikram Kabra, how could I win against him? No one else could! What chance did _I_ have?"

**"I hope you didn't rely on brains."**

"Actually, I did."

**"Pardon my scepticism, but didn't you _willingly_ walk into that mess? If he didn't eat you alive, you got _lucky_."**

"Even better. I got smart. Appealing to empathy was a waste of time. So, I appealed to reason. Finding a calm that I didn't even know I was capable of, I imitated the darkly amused look I'd seen him wear whenever he was negotiating with someone. And that gave me what I needed to think clearly. I reminded him sharply that it was against the Lucian Code for him to lay a finger on me. If he thought for a second that he could dispose of my body and keep 6 Lucians quiet on the matter, he had another thing coming. At least one of them would sell the info to one of his rivals— namely _you_—and then punishment would need to be enacted. As for the asylum, the other branches would be on me in no time looking for the clues if he kept me in a public location—other branches that _hadn't _murdered my friends or imprisoned me in a nuthouse. And then, just to be arrogant, I gave him an ultimatum: either forget about Amy and Dan now, or I'd ensure that he was kicked out of the Lucian Council once I took power."

**"..."**

"Admit it; that was pretty good."

**"… not entirely terrible. My expectations weren't high."**

"Was that a _compliment_?"

**"As close to one as you'll ever get."**

"Well, it certainly stunned Father. Silence hung between us like a curtain as I dared him to make his next move. But he never got a chance to because, as we sat there glaring at one another, the first chirrup of his mobile cut through the air. I smiled in satisfaction, confident that he'd found a reason not to kill me, and gestured for him to take the call."

**"I assume he was told that Amy and Dan had escaped?"**

"Yes. Before I left, I hooked up an alarm clock outside of Amy's door that was set to go off twenty minutes after I left with a note explaining the situation and detailing what she should do. They were in the next state by the time his henchmen found our place. Father's reaction showed me as much and I breathed an inward sigh of relief. A part of me had been terrified that Amy would ignore the note or that it would go missing somehow and they wouldn't know to run. But to know that that hadn't been the case and that they were indeed safe, it felt like the weight of the world had been dropped off my shoulders."

**"So you'd beaten him then? He had no choice but to accept the deal. Why didn't he?"**

"Because he still had one option left that I had never considered. Mostly because I hadn't believed that he would ever do it."

**"Ah…"**

"He hung up the phone and pocketed it, a darkly pensieve look on his face. I could see the rage simmering beneath the quiet surface, but was too assured in my victory to care. I was still lounging in my chair, smirking in triumph. I'd cornered my father at last. The metaphorical checkmate was at the tips of my fingers; all I had to do was reach for it. But before I could even begin dictating my terms his eyes locked on me once more in contempt."

**"You don't have to—"**

"You wanted to know how he told me? You want to know what it was _like_? I'd almost won—I'd almost _beaten_ him with his own twisted manipulation! And then to have victory and so much more snatched away from me so swiftly that it felt like I'd lost everything I'd ever known... He'd always been toying with me. My whole life—!"

**"Ian, stop—"**

"No! You _asked_! You wanted to_ know_! He told me that it didn't matter that they'd escaped. Because even if we did assemble the clues, the Lucian Council would crush us before the world ever saw that power. I opened my mouth to remind him, once more, that he'd be killed for murdering another Lucian, but he beat me to it. With a goddamn smile on his face, he told me that he would ensure that I lost my claim to the title of branch leader as well as any protection I ever had as a Lucian."

**"…"**

"He was going to disown me."

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	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Well, here it is. I haven't given up on writing this thing, I've just been drowning in homework lately. And I'm probably going to keep doing that until December. That said, I'll try not to leave you hanging that long again. Just remember to review!

Ah! And for those of you who have read the 6th book, or have accidentally read spoilers, you'll know that this story, for _really_ obvious reasons, is now AU… *sigh*

Thanks, Jude…

The bright side of that is that, for those of you who haven't read it, none of those spoilers appear in this story. So enjoy!

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Chapter 8

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"Well, that effectively ruined our contract. If it wasn't even possible for me to become the Lucian branch leader if I helped you, then why would I continue to do it?"

**"For Amy's sake?"**

"Ah right. For the girl who had shot me down and made it clear enough that she would never want anything to do with me. You can see why that was quickly losing its appeal. Not that I didn't still love her—I did. It was just much harder without that small amount of hope that something could happen between us. Because my future we very up-in-the-air right then."

**"He still took you home then?"**

"Well he didn't kill me, if that's what you're asking. _Yes_, he brought me back to the mansion, although I remember the place seemed almost alien to me after having left it months ago. Father hadn't spoken almost the entire plane trip after he'd made it clear that I would no longer be a Lucian. Apparently there was nothing more to say. Mother and Natalie were waiting for us when we arrived."

**"I don't suppose your mother fought for you?"**

"It wouldn't have mattered; Father was going to have his way regardless of what she did. But I don't for a second think that she agreed with it. When I saw her, tears were running down her cheeks and the lines around her eyes were even more pronounced than usual. She reached for me, but then hesitated and stopped altogether. It might as well have been a slap for just how hard I took that. My own mother was _afraid_ to hug me. I knew perfectly well that the reason for it was standing behind me like a shadow, but I still hated her for being weak. At least I had had the stones to stand up to him and reach for what I wanted."

**"Oh come on! She loved you even after you betrayed her. I'd cut the woman a little slack."**

"True. And it's more than I could say for Natalie. She was smirking at me, her lips pursed tightly together to keep from grinning. I suppose it was in some sort of validation that she'd been right about me being a rat. Or maybe it was the fact that I was no longer the favourite child in Father's eyes, and that somehow made her better than me.

"'Welcome back, _Benedict_,' Natalie told me smugly. I was surprised when Father told her to be quiet, though he might have done it because Mother started sobbing right after she did."

**"She really does love you, you know--your mother, that is."**

"I know. I think she's starting to like Amy too, but it's taken a long while to get to that point. Natalie stirred up a lot of hatred towards the Cahills when she fingered Amy as the reason I turned against them."

**"And Vikram was still hunting them at that point?"**

"Not a minute went by that he didn't check his mobile for confirmation that they'd been killed. In the beginning it sent my anxiety skyrocketing, but after a while, I realized that it was just pathetic how obsessed he'd become. He escorted me up to my room, explaining sardonically that he'd made some 'improvements' in my absence. I saw what he meant the moment I opened my door. There were bars on my solitary window and a nasty-looking screen, edged in razor wire behind them, making it painfully obvious that, should I have half a mind to hurl myself from the third story, I wouldn't be able to do it. To add to my torture, my computer was gone, my bookshelf was missing and the telly had been removed from my room. The bed was about all that was left, which made it look almost like a prison cell."

**"Ha! You think that was hard? I grew up in communist Russia! You want to hear _real_ horror stories—!"**

"No, I do _not_ want to hear 'real horror stories'. And this is about _me_."

**"No, this is about you and _Amy_. And I don't see what _any_ of this has to do with her. So far, this is just you whining about your hardships."**

"Maybe I should just keep the rest of this story to myself then."

**"You do that and my _entire_ estate will go to charity."**

"But… but you _hate_ charity—"

**"So do you."**

"Yes, but you don't have to spite me like that."

**"Are you going to go on, then?"**

"...Fine. And you wonder why I don't visit...."

**"So you were locked in your room?"**

"For eight days of sheer, unadulterated boredom. Yes. There were three locks on the outside of my door, which were only ever opened so that someone could bring me food. I think Father forbade anyone from speaking to me unless they were delivering a meal, which was his way of interrogating without having to look or speak to me."

**"So Vikram really left you alone?"**

"No. He came to me once, this smarmy look on his face, and told me he'd found them; they were dead and everything was over. I answered flippantly that that was a dumb move. Not that I knew what the last ingredients were, but even if I had, why would I give them to someone who had murdered my friends?"

**"You couldn't know that he was lying."**

"I was pretty sure. If he had found them, he'd have had a picture of their bodies in hand to provoke me. That's how he operates. Plus, I had a feeling he'd try just that, so it didn't come as a big shock. Rather, it came as a relief."

**"To have him tell you they were dead?"**

"To know that he was getting desperate enough to resort to that. It meant that Amy was still out there with our 39 clues, safely away from my father's reach. My plan had worked—aside from the whole being disowned bit—but I was still very conflicted about where I should stand."

**"You're saying you actually thought about betraying us?"**

"To put it bluntly, yes."

**"You thought about betraying _Amy_?"**

"Yes."

**"Fickle little cretin. _This_ is why you don't deserve her! Why you shouldn't even _be_ with her—!"**

"I know your memory's slipping, but you can at least remember that I _didn't actually do it_! But I'd have been an idiot not to consider my options. And what could you offer me? Nothing. Except maybe revenge on my family for disowning me, which had yet to actually happen. And what could _they_ offer me? Oh yes, a _real _life as a Lucian. Which was everything I thought I cared about."

**"Right. Well then, why—?"**

"Until Amy. The entire time my father was speaking to me on the plane, the only thing that kept running through my mind was that she had been right all along. The man opposite from me was a complete lunatic and with the power of the 39 clues at his disposal, what would become of the world? That was why it had been kept secret for so long and why Amy and Dan had given up everything to reserve the technology for peaceful means. It was because of people like my father."

**"It took you _six months_ to realize that? I'm amazed we're all still alive…"**

"I think he expected that I'd have broken down by then and begged to keep my Lucian status. Turns out, he didn't know me too well. Instead, the moment he left, I tore the pages out of the one book in the room they'd missed—which, you might remember was Crime and Punishment—and began writing in the margins. I didn't have a whole lot of time left, but I was determined to use it as best I could; which, to me, meant keeping Amy safe."

**"I thought you were falling out of love with her?"**

"No. And even if I hadn't loved her, I still respected her. She was the one to stop me from becoming exactly like Vikram; I owed her at least that."

**"You owe her a hell of a lot more. And while you're at it, you owe _me_ a hell of a lot more—"**

"Ha! I don't think so. You were just the lesser evil in this whole deal. An alternative, if you will, to my father. Who, by the way, slipped an envelope under my door three days after that. It was a summons to the Lucian council to be held in a little less than a week from then. Not that it mattered greatly whether I was there or not. Vikram was going to put the motion to dissolve my Lucian status before the council anyway. And if it passed, I'd lose everything."

**"Don't tell me you weren't working on some sort of plan?"**

"…"

**"Nothing?! The great schemer had _nothing_?"**

"It wasn't _me_ who was scheming. And I'm not talking about Father either. There were other Lucians in that house with ambitions too. But I was too blinded by anger to see them for what they were."

**"… You're talking about Natalie?"**

"Her too. But she was much less subtle than my mother. She was usually the one to bring me food three times a day. She'd set down the tray, ask something mundane like 'how are you feeling?' or 'why do you have the curtains closed? – to which I'd either say nothing or tell her to get out. I knew she wanted to talk, but I was too disgusted to give her that chance. How could she have stood by someone like Father for so long? What kind of person did that?"

**"You weren't so different when we first met."**

"I was a kid. I wasn't supposed to know any better. She should have been able to see exactly what he was, which was the reason for my silence. It was about the fourth day of my incarceration when I broke that. Like normal, she came in with her lunch tray and set it down on my dresser, picking up the remains of my breakfast. For a moment, she stared at me, motionless with this empty look in her eyes. I told her to quit it and get out, but she didn't move. Instead, she asked me:

"'What's she like?'

"It took me a moment to figure out that she meant Amy. I stared at her blankly for a few moments, undecided on whether or not I was supposed to be offended. I'd had trouble deciphering my emotions lately and this felt just as muddled anything else. In frustration and pain, I grit my teeth and snapped that she was _smart._ Smart enough to see the truth about Father and brave enough to do something about it."

**"Come on now! You didn't have to give her such a hard time."**

"Yes, I _know_. Why do I need to keep repeating myself? I know it was crummy, but it's what happened. Would you like me to make up some rosy story about how we hugged and made up? That isn't how it was. But we did start talking after that. She replied that there we just some things that I couldn't understand about their relationship. How she didn't necessarily agree with some of his decisions— like his plans to bankrupt Cortex Engineering and Sysco Developers next week—but it was his business, not hers, and it didn't affect who he was. On the inside, apparently, she still thought he was a good man. I didn't believe a word of it. How about that decision to disown me? Was that just business or was that the real him? I argued with her for a while until I think we were both sick of it. Eventually she left only to return that night bearing supper and a new set of arguments. Nothing was ever resolved, but we talked about it every time that she came to give me food. Looking back on it, I sometimes think that she didn't actually believe what she was saying, but it was an opportunity to talk to me again before that was no longer possible. And she knew it wouldn't be for much longer."

**"Ah. So that was your mother's scheme, what about Natalie?"**

"Much more simple. Not that that's terribly surprising; she's a creature of convenience with—apparently— no heart."

**"How can you say that? She was just a child—!"**

"She was the _devil_'s child."

**"You were pretty bad yourself when we met to negotiate our deal—"**

"I wasn't _evil incarnate_."

**"But she was always this sweet, polite little thing—!"**

"She's a bleeding_ sociopath_. Don't be fooled by her whole demeanour; it's a very pretty façade, but behind that, things get frightening. Not as bad as Father, but still..."

**"She couldn't have done anything that bad."**

"… It's not so much what she did as what she said. Natalie hadn't seen me since I arrived. I think Father was trying to keep me from corrupting her or something equally ridiculous. I had nothing to offer her—especially not after I had vacated my position as 'favourite child' for her to take full advantage of. It was my eighth and final day inside that room. The hearing at the Lucian council was the next day and I was in a state of self pity. I was powerless to stop it from happening, but the thought of no longer being related to Vikram Kabra was almost appealing. If only there wasn't the whole fact that he was probably going to have me tortured and killed after the verdict was announced. That was enough to dampen my spirits and put me in a rotten mood by the time supper arrived that evening. I remember it was pissing rain outside and there were rumbles of thunder off in the west with sheet lightning occasionally lighting up the darkened sky. I was watching out the window as I scribbled down the last of my revisions to our agreement. I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again, but if I could manage to slip them to you at the hearing, it would go far in keeping Amy safe. Her memory was everything I had left. It was about then that the locks on my door started to tumble and I was forced to stash my papers away underneath my mattress. I was expecting to see Mother walk in carrying her usual plate of food. Instead, there was Natalie..."

…………………..

"Evening, traitor," she said with that humourless smile of hers.

Balanced in one hand was a tray of my food while in the other she had one of the gourmet French biscuits that Mother like to buy for us from a bakery in Avignon. It had been months since I had one and I could feel my mouth watering at the sight of it. Her eyes glinted, probably seeing my reaction, and she took a bite out of it.

"Pretty good," she commented swallowing, "Bet you miss these, don't you?"

"Bet you miss your soul."

"Hmm. Still bitter. Pity," she said with a careless shrug. The tray she was carrying tipped out of her hand and crashed to the floor with the sound of shattering tableware. Food and china splattered across hardwood and I winced at the noise, but didn't move. She just smiled that half-lidded smile, crunching glass under her Maryjanes as she wandered over to my bed.

"You'd better bring me another one," I told her, feeling irritable.

She just laughed at me, "What's that? You think anyone in this house gives a damn about you? Sorry to break it to you, but Mother and Father don't care. And me?"

Natalie flopped down on the bed next to my feet, smirking for all she was worth. Her dark eyes shone with malice and, with an elegant shrug, she added:

"I just came to thank you."

"Thank me?" I queried.

"For making my dream come true," She said with a triumphant, shit-eating grin, "You know, if it hadn't been for you running off all lovestruck with that homely little orphan, I might never have been the heir to the Lucian Council."

"Huh. And the funny part is, even if he does kill me, he'll _still_ always hate you."

Almost instantly, the smile melted off her face to be replaced with a nasty scowl. Frustrated that her words hadn't had their desired impact, she retaliated, "Shut up! You don't know anything."

"I know you were a _mistake_. And Father will always resent you. So, I'd forget about 39 clues; why would he reward a failure like you?"

"I said shut up!" she screeched, flinging the rest of her biscuit at my head and jumping up. It sailed by my ear and smacked against the headboard. I knew I was being unduly harsh, but it wasn't like we were friends anymore—and she'd made that first betrayal, not me. Plus she'd just tossed my dinner on the floor and I was pretty sure there had been sweet potatoes with it. So, maybe she deserved it.

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"You'll never know! You'll be _dead_! And so will your poor, ugly girlfriend! No one else is going to remember that you even _existed_!" she hissed furiously.

I didn't say anything. It hurt that she was probably right—no one would remember me. But as for Amy dying, that wasn't something I could see happening. Even if Father did somehow find her, she'd live. She always did. When we'd tried to kill her, when the Holts had, when everyone else had, she lived.

"Just tell me," she said spitting venom now, "Was she worth it? Was she worth your _life_?"

The question caught me off-guard. Was Amy worth everything that had happened? Was she worth losing my family, my home and probably my life? Was the peace and happiness she'd bring to the world worth never being able to see it?--Jesus! I had to stop this. I was turning into a sodding martyr!-- But in spite of it all, I felt the corners of my mouth tugging upwards. I didn't even need to answer her.

She let out a high, exasperated noise, "Ugh! You're so pathetic! You can't even see what she's done to you! And you won't even _save_ yourself!"

"Not that you'd want me to."

She hesitated, her eyes darting away and then back to me uncertainly, "Even if you squealed now, Father would still never let you be the heir… But…"

I quirked an eyebrow, "Come off it. You don't think he'd let _you_ play heir if I was still around?"

Her brow suddenly furrowed and she glared as though I was being obtuse, "_No!_ That's not what I meant! I mean you'd at least be playing for the winning team. Keeping it in the family… Why would you give that up?"

I lifted my head and smiled at her. Because again, she already knew the answer to that. Or at least, she thought she did. Not that she was mistaken either. Natalie stared at me in disbelief for a long time before a look of contempt blackened her already dark eyes. Her lips thinned and she glowered. With all the charm and composure of a hissing cat, she bore down on me.

"That's it then… It's all _just _because you love her?"

Again, I was silent. I think a part of me didn't want to voice it. Somehow the fact that I had feelings to her seemed to cheapen my reasons for betraying my family, which wasn't the case at all. I hadn't had them when I'd signed that contract and now that I'd learned enough of my father's true nature, my actions were guided by fear of him taking power. But she drew her own conclusions nevertheless and it only seemed to make her angrier with me. Shaking her head slowly, her jaw clenched.

"Say it then. Say it's because you're in love with that _freak!_ Tell me that that's why you betrayed us!"

I was torn between imparting wisdom to those already doomed to follow in Father's footsteps of just making my life easier by lying. What to do? It was hard to decide when I just didn't care anymore. And in my ambivalence, I eyed my poor fallen potatoes on the hardwood, realizing that they'd had toasted marshmallow on top of them. Now that was a real waste. And all just so that Natalie could keep up the front that she wasn't affected by my betrayal. Well that had crumbled quickly, hadn't it? Because here she was, screaming at me, seething pain and demanding reasons. And my potatoes were still on the floor…

"Yes, I love her," I answered at last, conceding that I was obligated to try, "But Father is the real problem. He's… _insane_ and handing him the 39 clues would only make him worse. You've seen how he can be. The Lucian Council—the _world_ can't handle that."

She didn't look impressed. With a hand on her hip, she rolled her eyes, a petulant look on her face, "Oh, who the hell cares? Father can do what he likes with the stupid world; they're his clues. And he's not _mad_; he's a genius—"

"A _genius_?!" I choked on the word, "No, dear sister. A genius doesn't murder his own son to teach him a lesson. That's what a _monster_ does."

Natalie started laughing at that, "You're saying he can't be both? Oh come on. I know perfectly well what he is. I've probably known it longer than _you_."

She had on that cat-like smile as she cocked her head to the side. I frowned in puzzlement over what she meant, but was saved from asking as she was quick to lord over me just how much more she'd always known.

"That's what happens when you're not the golden child; everything becomes so much clearer. Like you: you're so weak that you just went along with everything Father said because you _admired_ him so much. And now? You've only found someone new to admire. It's not that she's any better; just more _novel_. And Father…" she laughed to herself, a malicious grin breaking out over her face, "The end justifies the means… in all aspects. He's a cruel, indifferent monster who only cares about getting what he wants—and he has the brains to back it up. It's not something to be admired; it's just who he is. And the only thing you can do is exploit it."

When I refused to say anything in return, showing no provocation at what she'd said, Natalie grew bored with the non-conversation and turned to go. Though, she just couldn't resist getting the last word. On her way out, she paused at the door, throwing a smirk over her shoulder at me.

"If it helps, you'd have probably died anyways. In fact, he's saved me the trouble of having to dispose of you!"

With that, the door swung shut and the locks slid back into place. The room rang of silence, but her words seemed to echo distantly in the walls. I passed a hand over my face, silently trying to convince myself that I was adopted. I couldn't be that much of a sociopath, could I? Maybe before I might have been, I thought, as I recalled with a cringe of regret the very words I'd said to Amy so long ago when I refused to sign the contract. But I was different now. Changed. A new lease on life... But how much could anyone really change? That hideous word 'genetics' haunted me. If there was an evil gene out there, it had probably originated with our family. And _she _was the product of a millennia of artificial selection…

"Dude, no offense, but you're sister's psychotic."

His voice nearly shocked me out of my skin. Almost as much as it did when I realized where it was coming from. I turned to the window, squinting past the glare from the glass to see the one thing in the world that could have at once lifted my spirits and left me bewildered.

Dan Cahill was hanging upside down outside my window, a big, cheesy grin plastered on his dripping wet face.

…………………………

A/N: Please review!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: It's not December yet, see?! Okay, I'm sorry. I am sneaking this in at the last minute. I've just been crazy busy lately. I'm aiming for around Christmas with the next chapter. Hopefully I'll find some time or inspiration before then and will get it to you sooner. And, only four chapters left in this story! I really can't believe it's almost over...

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Chapter 9

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"So, yes… Dan—"

**"Reckless brat!"**

"Hmm? Me?"

**"No! _Him_! I warned him specifically not to hang upside down on those wires. And what does he do?"**

"What any thirteen-year-old with an unhealthy obsession with ninjas would have. Who exactly did you think you were sending up there to get me? Someone responsible?"

**"Yes! Amy was there!"**

"You do realize that she's his sister not his mother, right? The kid doesn't listen to anyone; why would he listen to you?"

**"... Humph. Well then? What did the little punk have to say?"**

"Nothing intelligent, I assure you. I stuck my fingers through the razor wire at the window, careful not to get pricked by it, and started to lift up the pane so that I could see and hear him better. Dan was dressed head to toe in black with a silver tool belt buckled to his harness. His face was turning red from hanging upside down from a wire that was secured to the roof above my room. Naturally, he made some idiotic comment like 'This is so sick! I'm freaking Spider-man!' and then started laughing."

**"…never hire thirteen-year-old boys for rescue missions."**

"I asked if Amy was there too. He nodded and pointed up. I followed his finger to where another set of fingertips were wiggling in greeting at the top of my window. Amy was on the roof, probably keeping Dan secure and acting as a lookout. Seeing that, I felt my blood start to boil and slammed my fist into the window sill out of frustration. How could I be so tantalizingly close to freedom and yet be completely unable to reach it. Because those bars were an inch thick. Unless there was also a forklift on the roof, this wasn't going to work.

"'You're not getting me out of here. The screen's alarm-sensitive and you probably can't get the bars off either.' I told them, trying to control the anger in my voice.

"Dan raised a lazy eyebrow at me as he flipped right-side-up and told me to wait for it. I opened my mouth to ask him what it was I was supposed to be waiting for when suddenly the room around me plunged into darkness. I blinked rapidly for a few seconds, straining to see anything in the black that envolped me, when a hissing sound outside broke the quiet. I heard Dan fumbling with something on his belt. With a metallic click, light was suddenly visible again, only this time, it was coming from the blowtorch that Dan had just lit. He grinned at me through the flame like a monkey and secured the strap on his welder's helmet before methodically slicing through the iron bars that imprisoned me. As he worked, the rain made sizzling noises as it splattered against the flame. Once or twice, I was afraid that it would burn out altogether, but it held up."

**"Well of course. Had you any doubt? This was _my_ plan."**

"Yeah. It was my father's house, not _Alcatraz_. But never mind that. The bars popped off easily after only a few minutes and, since the power was out, Dan was able to make short work of the screen and wire with the knife he was carrying. And I was free... well, almost."

**"Yes, we both know what happened after that. There's no need to go into—"**

"Go into what? The fact that you botched it up? Now you want to skip things, is that it?"

**"I didn't botch anything! You're all still _here,_ aren't you?"**

"With no thanks to you. On my way out, I snatched the papers I'd been working on from beneath my mattress and stuffed them in my pocket. Now that I might actually have a chance to give them to you, where was the sense in leaving them behind? I remember climbing onto the broken, jutting bars and waiting as Amy tossed down an additional harness for me to climb into and a second rope. Dan made sure it was hooked up properly and then the two of us started making our way down the side of the building. It was a rush, feeling my stomach fly up against my throat and the excitement pulsing through me. Dan zipped down it like we were racing and landed in the garden below. I joined him in my own time, and we waited for Amy, who I gather, didn't get as much enjoyment out of it as we did. She looked a little green by the time she set foot on solid ground."

**"And what did she say to you?"**

"Nothing. We didn't have time for words right then. We still had to get off the grounds before anyone realized what was happening. It was dark out and the power outage inside the house only added to the problem. But still we ran. Blindly, it seemed, because I could see nothing in front of me and hear nothing but the roaring rain as we worked our way around the mansion. I was barefoot and kept sliding across the slick grass and stumbling into rosebushes. At one point a sharp thorn sank into my heel and I howled in pain. The two of them halted long enough to tell me to get up and run. There simply wasn't time to stop. Dan's pace before me never slowed or tired after that. Amy was next to me almost the entire time, also struggling it seemed. But I still believe that her reassuring presence was the only thing that kept my heart from bursting out of my chest. I was half elated at being rescued and half wild with fear that we'd get caught—not for myself either, mind you. They'd kept me prisoner for a week and I knew what was coming to me. But if Father ever found Amy and Dan…"

**"I shudder to think. He would have killed you too though." **

"He very nearly got to do it. We were close to the gate, so incredibly close. We just had to slip around the east wing and we'd be within sprinting distance of the front gate. But it was then that angry shouts started echoing from up ahead. I think I stopped breathing right then as the three of us slammed on the brakes and kept a cautious distance. I remember Dan swearing and Amy admonishing him as we all peeked around the corner of the building to see what was happening."

**"Let me guess: your father's armed guard?"**

"Wow. It's like you were there—oh wait! _You_ _were_. And you didn't lift a finger to help us!"

**"The entire plan would have been blown if he'd known about my involvement!"**

"Right. So that's why you left _mere children_ there to be shot on sight. Might want to mention that little 'misdeed' in your final confession."

**"You lived, you mouthy pest!"**

"But do you remember the cost? No. I don't suppose it meant anything to _you_. But to Amy…? That wasn't _nothing_, Irina."

**"…"**

"… There were three in total. All toting their Kalishnakovs—bloody Russians. And then there was my father, shouting at the lot of them to the point where he was spitting his words as he pointed emphatically at the gate we were trying to reach. It was a familiar enough scene, but seeing it from the view of the hunted was something entirely new and terrifying. By all rights I should have turned away, but still, I focused on him. I knew he probably had his favourite pistol stashed somewhere on his person. He such a poor shot that he couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with that thing. Not that it bothered him; Father always told me that the real Lucians never dirtied their hands with barbaric warfare. If you were good enough, you didn't have to. Still, he didn't trust even one of his men enough not to carry it."

**_"Real Lucians_?! Oh for the love of--! How about Napoleon? He fought with his troops!"**

"He was French. Father doesn't admire the French."

**"He was still a _Lucian_!" **

"...Yes, I _know_. Save the lecture for _him_, will you? Now, do you mind if I continue?"

**"Real Lucians. Honestly!"**

"...Right, well Dan turned back around to face the two of us. His eyes were wide and scared, and his shoulders were slumping. The reality that this spy stuff wasn't like one of his video games was beginning to dawn on him. Sounding baffled, he started to relate just how badly everything had gone wrong. The gate was supposed to have been opened by you: it wasn't. And now, somehow, we were supposed to get there, get it unlocked and race to the street all without getting shot or noticed by the guards."

**"So what did you do?"**

"Amy turned to the both of us and, in an urgent whisper, asked us which of us could throw further. I frowned at her in bewilderment, but Dan was quick to volunteer for whatever she had in mind. She pulled out a revolver from the belt at her waist and handed it over, instructing him to throw it into one of the lower-story windows on the wing we'd come from."

**"Well, if you had _that_, then why didn't you just peg off the guards from there?"**

"Because killing people is wrong, Irina. Incredible, I know. But it tends to make everyone very upset. And then there's the tedious business of pretending like you have a conscience—"

**"Stop patronizing me! Why didn't you just wound them then?"**

"Because I wanted to _be _with Amy, not piss her off further. And we've already established that I'm quite talented at doing just that. But of course it_ occurred_ to me. I might have done it too, but, like Father, I'm also a terrible shot."

**"Ha. There's the truth!"**

"… We went with the window trick. If I thought _I_ was miserable at pitching, Dan made me feel like I could play for the Yankees. It was about fifty feet away from us and he threw it. Not only did he miss the shot, he threw it twenty feet short! It would have been a complete and utter waste, and I doubtlessly would have made fun of him for the rest of his short life, if not for the fact that Amy and Dan both seem to have horseshoes shoved up their—err…. _behinds_. The gun, serendipitously, smacked against a metal watering can with the loudest clang that I've ever heard in my life and discharged with a bang. I suppose the firing pin was loose or something. How on earth does _anyone_ get that lucky? It worked for us; I'm not complaining on that end. Afterall, it drew the attention of the guards blocking our exit."

**"Unbelievable… just _unbelievable_…"**

"We crouched behind the hedges, praying that all of them would go running past us and leave the entrance clear. I had pulled Amy down next to me and wrapped an arm over her, trying to shield her from sight. She shivered against the rain at my side, her cold, wet arms wrapping themselves around me. Sadly, I was too alert to really appreciate it. Adrenaline was singing in my veins as I counted the seconds, each taking a small eternity to pass. I could hear at least two of them approaching at a run, the light from their torches dancing across the white concrete wall that surrounded the estate. Doubts attacked me. What if they found us? Our hiding place wasn't exactly secure. Would Father really have them shot on sight? Would he kill me too? I just about had a panic attack as the first one appeared wielding his Kalishnikov. The second, with a torch, wasn't far behind him, both conversing loudly in Russian. Amy's arms tensed around me. I knew she was wondering the same thing I was: where was that last one?"

**"Did he ever come?"**

"No. The two that were there soon discovered the watering can. It was at that point, as one was crouched over it looking for the gun, that the three of us began to creep out of hiding and around the wall. Through some miracle, Father was busy speaking with the third out front of the house and wasn't concentrating on where we were coming from. It was our only opportunity. With the rain pounding down around us, effectively muffling any noise, Dan broke into a run. Amy grabbed my hand and sprinted after him. The bottom of my foot stung where the thorn had pierced it and my strides were much shorter than hers, but I refused to slow us down. I forced myself to run and not to react. One hesitation and it would be over. Somewhere, although it seemed like another world, I heard shouts and screams in Russian. The first shot rang out, the echoes crackling off the mansion and walls around us. I felt Amy flinch and it sent a fresh wave of fear surging through me. This is it, I thought. They're going to gun us down right here. This is how I'm going to die. This is how I'm going to lose her forever."

**"But you didn't."**

"...If I believed in fate, I'd say we cheated it that night. Because there is no way we should have made it out of the mansion. They were closing in on us and the noise was deafening. The cracks of gunfire began to drown out the rain as the two that we had lured away returned to join the third in hunting us. My father's persistent and increasingly desperate screams could be heard echoing into the night while lightning split the sky and thunder boomed overhead. My feet slapped pavement as we neared that gate sending spasms of pain up my leg. I didn't dare look back, too afraid that if I stopped for even a moment, we'd all be lost..."

*=*=*

Dan reached the gate first. It was about ten feet high, wrought iron with a coil of barbed wire lining the top. I winced when I saw it, wondering for one panicked second just how we were going to get around it. The gunfire ceased, Father probably thinking he had us cornered, but Dan didn't stop. Like a spider monkey, he leapt at that gate and clambered up it with such speed and skill that I would have sworn he'd been training for this his entire life. Both Amy and I were quick to follow his lead, though not with the supernatural speed that he had. Our pursuers, however, were far from oblivious.

"Stop! Take another step and I'll order them to fire!"

I knew it was Father. In spite of everything that had happened, I felt a tug in my stomach. It was maddening to know that he still had that hold on me. After all he'd done, a part of me still couldn't let go. And it felt wretched not to be able to face him. But at the same time, all of just five feet separated me from freedom. I couldn't stop.

At the barbed wire, Dan fished out his knife and ripped through it with a flourish. It fell away like a coiled snake, pinging softly against the metal. I watched as he jumped off the other side of the gate, landing with a splash in a puddle, and started calling to the two of us.

"Come on! Hurry!"

"Get down, all of you! You have until the count of three!"

The gate was slick and wet and the rain that kept falling in my eyes made it harder to climb. My hands had to grip it tightly to keep me from falling, but it was working. Ignoring Father's threats, I was near the top when I heard Amy cry out. I think my heart stopped beating in that moment and just lay dead in my chest. When I looked down, I saw her crouching on the ground, staring back up at me in defeat. She'd slipped down and cut her wrist on the gate. It was dark, but I could still see the blood dribbling down her forearm as she clutched it.

"Amy! Come on!" Dan was screaming, fear and panic strangling his voice. His hands were fisted around the gate from the other side, "Get up!"

"Give me your hand!" I called to her reached down to try and pull her up to where I was. There was no way in hell that I was just going to leave her there. She hesitated, but quickly caved. Seeing her like that just about broke me; it was impossible to miss the pain that was etched across her face as she slipped her uninjured hand into mine.

I was about to pull her, and would have too, if I hadn't chanced a look behind us at the approaching guard. What I saw made my spirits die. They'd stopped moving altogether to take aim at us. Barely twenty feet away, they stood, guns raised, with Father standing among them with a villainous look on his face as though he'd enjoyed watching us scramble around. I thought right then that we were done for.

"Hey, moron! Pull her up! Pull her up!" Dan was screaming again, his hands rattling the gate from the other side, desperate to save his sister.

"Ian—" Amy tried to speak to me, but my father's bellow cut her off.

"Don't move, boy. Or you both die right here." He told me, gesturing to his guards. I heard the multiple clicks of guns being cocked and aimed at us.

I froze, frightened out of my mind. All I could do was stare at him helplessly, stunned at just how far this had gone. How could he do this? Disowning me was one thing, but killing me in cold blood? Months ago, I would have never guessed he was capable of this. There seemed like such a disconnect between that reality and this one. And still, a part of me didn't believe he'd do it. A part of me thought that he was still my father. And that part wanted to rage and shout some sense into him, but there wasn't a single word in my mouth to do it.

"Ian." I heard Amy call to me again softly.

I glanced down at her to find her staring at me with this pleading, desperate expression. It puzzled me for a moment, though I didn't fully understand why until later. She glanced between me and my Father for one indecisive moment before she seemed to make up her mind. Her small hand squeezed mine.

"This is your last warning—!" I heard Father cry at us and I knew that he meant exactly what he was saying.

"Close your eyes," she told me.

"What?!"

"Please. Just do it!"

"No!" I yelled as her hand slipped out of mine and she jumped back to the pavement and turned to face Father. This couldn't be happening! Amy wasn't really going to sacrifice herself so that we could get away! That wasn't going to happen! I wasn't going to _let_ that happen!

"Dude! Just close your eyes!" I heard Dan yell to me at the last moment, but I ignored him. I leapt off the gate, my feet taking a beating as I crumpled on the ground. I didn't care. I had to save her! I couldn't live with myself if I lost her! None of what had happened between us mattered; she just had to live! But Amy was already walking towards them, her gait steady as ever as she faced certain death. With her back to me, she stared down the three men and my father, eying the guns in their hands. He gave the signal for them to lower their weapons.

"Amy! No!" I cried out racing towards her, already too late to change anything. Out of blind fear and the vain hope that I could stop her, I planted myself between the two of them, once again, trying to protect her. But Amy had different plans. She side stepped around me with a barely perceptable shake of her head as a warning for me to go. I didn't take the hint; I wasn't going to leave her side.

"Surrendering, are we? Perhaps one of you does have a brain…" my father eyed her with thinly veiled disgust and condescension. He shot me a look too, which I returned with equal contempt.

"You can forget it," I snarled at him, "You touch her and the clues are gone!"

Something akin to irritation flashed in his eye and he turned his gaze to Amy who was mute beside me, "I don't suppose you have anything sensible to add?"

I saw her entire body shake when he spoke to her, fear wreaking havoc on her nerves. She bit her lip and lifted her head to him, but the words just wouldn't come. She halted for a few seconds, "I..." but then trailed off into nothing.

Father sniffed at it, "Very well then," he said with an indifferent shrug, "Kill her--"

"--N-No!" she yelled, finding her voice, "Y-You want the power of the th-thirty nine clues?" she stumbled over the words that were at last beginning to flow. I watched her as she spoke, the rain dripping off her face as she glared at him. There was something so subtly powerful in the way she looked, if not in the way she spoke, that seemed to command the attention of everyone. This determination and confidence that I'd never seen in her; it made her seem oddly formidable in spite of the stutter. Father opened his mouth to say something, but she immediately cut him off, "W-Well, h-here it is!"

"Amy—"

"Close your eyes." She warned me again, a biting edge to her voice as she removed a tiny black test tube from the pocket of her jacket.

The first time that you see Orion is impossible to forget. Unfortunately, it's impossible to describe. How can you relate to anyone who's never seen it what it is like to see every color of the visible spectrum all in a blinding white flash that literally cooks your retinas if you stand too close? I don't so much remember the colours that first time (it took me too much by surprise), as the tactile sensations. It doesn't radiate a lot of heat, no, but it has this acrid, metallic smell like burning ashes and copper. The eeriest thing is that it is completely silent except for the soft hiss of air being burned and water being fried.

The shockwave knocked me off my feet and all I could feel was the dry heat on my eyelids. I'd finally taken Amy and Dan's advice and closed them a split second after she dropped at vial between us and it exploded, but it gave me this numb feeling. The next thing I knew, I was enveloped in a cloud of smoke, struggling to breathe through the fumes. My vision was skewed considerably: everything I saw was tinted in greens and yellows. For a moment, I entertained the possiblity that I'd died. But then I began to wonder why the afterlife was green and why everything was so foggy, which was when I realized that I was still alive. But for the longest time, I just lay there, dazed, in a puddle in the middle of the driveway. I wasn't even aware of what was happening until I heard Dan yelling from behind us.

"Come on! Get up! The van's here, let's move!"

I turned my head to find Amy next to me. She was on her knees and shaking with this look of pure horror on her face as she stared at our knocked-out pursuers. Though the rain made it hard to tell, I could see the tears streaming quietly down her cheeks as she gasped for breath. They were all lying on the ground, including my father, unconscious on the path that let up to the house. I know I should have felt something right then, unable to tear my eyes away from his prone body and not even knowing whether or not he was alive. Upset, angry, overjoyed… anything but indifference. But that was it; I felt nothing. And it terrified me.

"Ian?" she spoke to me, her voice shaking horribly, "I-I'm s-sorry. I-I…"

I nodded mutely in acceptance but couldn't speak. At the time, I had no idea what she was even apologizing for. I blinked, trying to get a grip on what I was missing but I couldn't see it.

"Now! Guys! Come on!" Dan's cries became more persistent.

Eventually, I hauled myself up onto unsteady feet, still feeling really weak from the blast. The numbness was beginning to subside and my vision had started to return to normal. Father still wasn't moving. It occurred to me to go check for a pulse, but I hesitated. If he was dead, what was I going to do? And if he wasn't, I didn't want to be near him. That decision made, I touched Amy on the shoulder to get her attention. She was in such a state of shock that she didn't notice it and instead continued to stare at the four men sprawled in the pavement.

"It'll be okay," I told her squeezing her shoulder in comfort, "I promise."

Amy nodded in silence, but I somehow don't think she believed me. I didn't grasp the full magnitude of what she'd done right then or the extent of what it meant for her, but I had a feeling that this wasn't going to be something she could easily forget. How could you really? She gave up everything else to prevent other people from using it as a weapon and yet, the first thing that she did after developing it was just that. It was the ultimate in hypocrisy, but, seeing Amy then, I don't think anyone could have blamed her. I helped her up, though she could barely look at me, too ashamed and horrified at what she'd done. I guided her back to the gate and urged her over it. She was slow to climb it and I had to help her at several spots, but eventually we both clambered over the top to reach the other side and freedom.

It was a bittersweet victory.

*=*=*

A/N: Next up will be some angst (alas 'tis necessary), some IanxAmy action (finally!) and the beginning of the end...


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Kudos goes to Music4evah for being the first one to figure out the Irina/Ian relationship back in chapter 7. I mention this now because, well, you'll see...

*=*=*

Chapter 10

*=*=*

"So yes, I suppose we've come to the part that you know all about."

**"The hotel?"**

"The hotel. That was right after you picked us up a block away from the mansion. At least you had that part of the escape plan right…"

**"I told you! It was necessary for the plan that—"**

"Yes, yes, fine. By all means, cling to that excuse if you think it absolves you. We all climbed into the van and were heading for downtown London. You were in the front passenger seat, one of your thugs was driving and the three of us sat in the back. Amy wasn't speaking very much, still looking really pale and traumatized, but Dan was busy berating me about having ditched them back in Detroit, calling me an idiot, a traitor, a moron—actually, he sounded a lot like _you_ right then."

**"And yet you continue to do stupid things..."**

"This from the hypocrite who wore cyanide-tipped nails her whole life and is now dying from cyanide poisoning. Now, is that an example of irony or karma?"

**"It's an example of what's _none_ of your business!"**

"Still touchy... Not much to say about the trip there. I tried to catch Amy's eye once or twice to see how she was faring, but she was too lost in her own thoughts to notice. It worried me, nearly as much as that cut on her wrist which was still bleeding, though even that I didn't mention to her. You'd found us a hotel near the London Eye. Don't remember what it was, but that's not important. It was far enough away from my father to ensure that we wouldn't be tracked, which suited me well enough.

**"Yes, the hotel. I remember too. Just tell me what happened!"**

"Impatient, are we? Don't worry, I'm getting there. I suppose now would be a good time to mention that Amy had decided to play mad scientist with the clues before you came to rescue me. She adjusted the formula so that what she ended up throwing wasn't even close to the real Orion that we know today. If it were, Amy, Dan, me and anyone within a two mile radius would have been dead or left dying of radiation poisoning."

**"Why are you telling me this? I know perfectly well what Amy took with her that night. It only contained a small amount of uranium 235."**

"Actually, it didn't contain any. She didn't use what you'd given her."

**"What?"**

"Ask her. The real Orion doesn't burn out until the uranium at its core finishes its entire fission cycle and combines with the other metals in Orion, which takes weeks to do. What she created was a flash and a bang, which was by no means completely harmless, but had the slight benefit of _not_ being radioactive.

**"She didn't throw the real thing then? So why was she so upset?"**

"I understand that it was the principle of the thing. Her invention was still a weapon that buggered with brain waves and retinas. And she was ashamed not only of having created it, but of having _used_ it. It doesn't really matter that no one was seriously hurt, the potential for someone getting hurt had been there."

**"Hnn…"**

"…Yeah, I don't get it either. I think it's an 'Amy' thing."

**"I hope this speculation is going somewhere..."**

"Honestly, do you have somewhere to _be_? Am I keeping you from appointment with the story _you asked to hear_? No? Then shut it, would you?"

**"So long as you get to it, fine!"**

"... We arrived at the hotel, the four of us jumping out of the van as your crony parked it somewhere beneath the building. I still remember the mortified faces of the receptionists as we passed through the revolving doors of the lobby, all of us soaked to the bone, Amy bleeding and me barefoot. Anyone would have thought that we'd been pulled from a POW camp. The staff were gracious enough to outfit us in dry clothes free of charge, although the only ones that were readily available at 10PM were souvenir t-shirts and sweatpants."

**"Ha! I still remember _your _face when you realized that you were going to have actually _wear_ them! Priceless. Truly priceless..."**

"Fine... It wasn't my style, no—"

**"Not your st—? Ha! That's rich! You were whining so loudly--!"**

"I was not! They were dry and relatively clean. I wasn't looking for anything beyond that; I'm not _that_ much of a snob."

**"I beg to differ."**

"Don't you always... That was when each of us retired to our respective rooms to shower and change, under the condition that we would meet within the hour at your room to discuss our plan of action. You'd booked me my own room, separate from Amy and Dan's and yours—which I was thankful for. I took my time in the shower, scrubbing at my skin until it was red and raw and washing my hair numerous times until I was sure that none of the chemicals from Orion remained. Feeling human once more, I changed into the black shirt I'd received which was emblazoned with the London underground's logo. It wasn't until I had finished bandaging up my bloody foot that reality really started to sink in; I was _free_. I might be disowned tomorrow, but did that really matter? I wasn't going to die. I was going to_ live_—with Amy no less! Sure, we'd be on the run, but at the very least, we'd be alive and we'd be together."

**"...Oh. Well..."**

"A bloke can dream... I ventured out of my room about fifteen minutes before we were scheduled to meet. I initially wanted to hunt for some footwear, since it still hurt to walk around without shoes, but plans changed. As I was making my way down the hall towards the elevators, I caught sight of Amy sitting outside of your room, legs curled up beneath her. She looked utterly lost, her long hair, still wet from the shower, hung about her face as her fingers tugged absently at the hem of her child-sized 'I heart London' t-shirt. Her pale face tilted up to me in greeting as I approached..."

*=*=*

"_Nice shirt," she offered tonelessly._

_I nodded, scrutinizing her, "Same to you. Are you feeling all right?"_

_She bit her lip and dropped her gaze away from me, seeming to tense up and close in on herself at the very mention of her sombre mood. I sighed and sank down beside her leaning my back against the wall, legs splayed out. Amy refused to look at me and I was absolutely terrified of opening my mouth and ruining things to the point where we couldn't work together. As I saw it, I'd pushed her too far already. And so we sat for a while in a comforting silence, listening to the soft pings of the elevator as it passed our floor._

_"I don't know why I did it." She blurted out suddenly, her voice choked with tears, "I just... I-I don't know. A-And I don't understand."_

_"Would you rather have been shot?" I asked her logically and received a dirty look from her that seemed to say how-can-you-be-so-insensitive?_

_"No..." But then her brow furrowed and she glanced away again, "I don't know...maybe it would have been better... t-to die with some kind of moral integrity—"_

_"Right, yeah." I agreed, "Die with integrity, sure. And while you're busy doing that, what happens to us? Irina abandons the agreement because she's not going to remain in a partnership with a twelve-year-old, Dan goes to the foster care system if he's not tortured and killed first, I wind up prisoner once more and Vikram eventually rules the world. Tell me, where is the integrity in that?"_

_Amy's mouth fell open in shock that I would be so callous and rude. She tried to defend her position, "I-It's not that simple! I could have bargained with him. I could have tried that!"_

_I raised an eyebrow at her, "You really don't know much about my father, do you? Even if, by some miracle, you'd managed to come to an agreement, there is no way he would have let you live once he had what he wanted. In the end, it amounts to the same thing."_

_"You don't know that."_

_"I'm sure enough of it that I can live with not giving him the chance."_

_She stared at me, looking exasperated that I wasn't giving her any quarter, "Really? You're fine then? For all we know, I killed them! I killed your father, three other people, and I could have killed you as well! And you're completely okay with that?"_

_"Well... not completely," I confessed, watching as a look of validation flitted briefly over her face, "If you'd killed yourself in that blast, now that I really wouldn't have been okay with."_

_"I-I don't... No! Ian, you-you can't just forgive me like that." She stammered, the first hint of a blush appearing on her cheeks._

_"I can't forgive you for saving my life?"_

_"No! For putting you in danger. F-For trying to kill your father—"_

_"I put myself in danger, remember? I went to him because I thought it would buy you time to save the world. I didn't think he'd actually try to kill me. That was my mistake for underestimating him and I can own to it. As for trying to kill him, I see it as self defence."_

_"Self defence?" she repeated disbelievingly, "Using untested chemical weapons is self defence?"_

_"Would he be any less dead if you'd had a gun?" I pointed out, watching her eyes widen in horror at the thought of actually using one. I shook my head knowing that if she could see what I saw, she'd never be painting herself to be as guilty as she thought she was. Trying to make her feel better, I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Don't tear yourself up over this. If it helps, I forgive you."_

_She shook her head and shied away from me, "I-I don't want you to forgive me. I j-just... I want to take it back. All of it! Everything that's happened over the last eight months!"_

_I drew my hand away, feeling my heart sink a little, "Our scheme, you mean?"_

_Amy nodded, sniffing miserably, "I should have just destroyed our clues. Th-That would have saved everyone from what I did. I never should have met with Irina when I found out about what they did. I-I was an idiot to think we could ever use them f-for good!"_

_I was silent, watching as she reached up and brushed the hair from her face with her injured hand. It felt miserable to hear her say that. Seeing someone I had looked up to and loved so much racked with guilt and doubting everything she had taught me to believe in. I wanted to say something—anything— to take away the pain and guilt, but I was at a loss for words. Instead, I caught her injured hand in mine, drawing her attention back to me._

_"Who tied this?" I asked her gently, encouraged by the fact that she didn't immediately pull away._

_"Dan."_

_"He did a rotten job," I remarked unclipping the end and beginning to unravel it. It was excessively tight and I could see it cutting off the circulation in her wrist. Not that I had any experience in first aid; just more common sense than Dan._

_I saw her bottom lip quiver and felt her arm tense under my attentions. The blush on her cheeks deepened and she looked away. Apparently she was still impossibly shy about being touched by me. Sensing that, I let go of her hand, the bandage partially unravelled and was prepared to accept the fact that I'd lost my chance with her. But she spoke up;_

_"No, umm... It's okay," she said, still avoiding my eyes, "Y-You can, i-if you want to."_

_I smiled to myself and nodded, taking her hand once more and unravelling it further. She still refused to look at me, but at least I knew that she was letting me make her uncomfortable. A small victory. As I pulled it off and then began to retie it properly, I spoke to her, letting the words just flow._

_"You can regret throwing that vial or making Orion or even striking a deal with us. That's fine, but I want you to know that I don't and never will." I told her honestly._

_She was too embarrassed to look at me, "I-Ian... I... I-I mean, w-we..."_

_"It's not about that," I assured her, sensing that she probably thought I was inferring something romantic, "Forget all that. I was... being stupid, I guess."_

_Amy was silent in reply and let me continue. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought I saw something sad flicker across her face as I said that._

_"What I mean is that without this scheme, without our plotting, we would never have been friends. And I can't say I regret that." I said._

_She made a face like she didn't believe me and lifted her head, "If we'd never done any of this, you'd still have a home, a family. You'd have your life back! I-I took that from you! I'm the reason that—"_

_"—that my life changed. You didn't wreck or take anything from me. Actually, you gave me something that I'm pretty sure I'd never have found on my own: a soul."_

_That drew a chuckle from her. Fighting to keep the smile off her face at the absurdity of it, she asked me: "A soul? How could I have given you a soul?"_

_I snorted too as I wrapped the bandage around her hand one last time and pinned it in place, but didn't let go, "Not in a cheesy, spiritual sense; that's all rubbish. But maybe in a... a moral sense. It's just that when I think about where my life was headed before we made our deal... I saw myself becoming like my father. Cold, merciless, evil—"_

_"—Soulless?"_

_"Right. I didn't question what was right; just what was convenient and useful to me. But now ... I'm different. Better. And if you're asking me to regret that too, I can't."_

_She was staring at me, her lovely green eyes filled with the tiniest spark of the happiness I adored seeing in her. Her mouth twisted into a shy smile and she looked away modestly._

_"I...umm...y-you really think...?"_

_"That that's your doing?" I supplied, catching her eye as she nodded, "If you think I would have changed on my own, you're mad."_

_I squeezed her hand lightly, running my thumb over her knuckles. I was surprised when Amy squeezed back, tentatively of course, and still more surprised when she didn't let go. It wasn't until then that I really noticed just how red her cheeks had gone, or the nervous look on her face. She snuck a shy smile at me as though to assess whether or not I was okay with that. It left me confused as to whether or not this was platonic._

_"Y-You really think we'll pull this off?" she asked me._

_I sighed heavily, "I wish I knew. For now, I'm just glad to be back with the group. Although, I have to admit, I almost missed Detroit."_

_"Almost?" she teased._

_I offered up a weak grin, "Some things are hard to miss; and that awful condo is one of them. But I'll admit, I did miss you and Dan."_

_Amy smiled warmly as I said that, "Yeah, I-I... did too."_

_"At any rate, the company here is infinitely better. What with my mother crying and my father threatening to kill me. And Natalie was just... well, you heard her. She's gone mental."_

_No answer came. When I looked over at her, her face was so flushed that I was actually concerned for a moment that she might pass out. Instead, she raised her eyes shyly to meet my gaze._

_"A...About that..."_

_"About what?" I asked absently. She was behaving kind of strangely, almost like she was embarrassed or something, but I hadn't the faintest idea why. She seemed to falter eventually, losing the nerve to say whatever it was she wanted to and looked away again._

_"Umm...—"_

_"Hey! There you are!" Dan's voice echoed from down the hall, cutting off whatever she was about to say. He was sporting his own crisp, new t-shirt with the logo for Manchester United imprinted on it. I grimaced. Chelsea is by far the better team, so I didn't fight him for it._

_Instantly, Amy tensed, retracting her injured palm from mine, turning an interesting shade of red and inching guiltily away from me as though she'd been caught doing something wrong. She refused to look at me, instead focusing her attention on Dan. I tried not to take that to heart, but it hurt anyway._

*=*=*

"And that was that. I don't suppose I have to go into what happened during our meeting, do I? You were there for that; nothing happened between Amy and me there. Your memory's not slipping_ that_ much, is it?"

**"Yes, I remember! Enough with your snark."**

"Good, I'll skip it then—"

**"You will do no such thing!"**

"Oh, for the love of...! _Why?_ Why do we need to hear this again?"

**"Because I want to hear the_ full_ story, boy. Not just your favourite memories. So go over it again."**

"Come off it! This is ridiculous—!"

**"—So is the amount of money I'm considering leaving to you!"**

"...Fine then. You win, I'll tell you about the meeting, even though you already know bloody-well what happened and recounting it is absolutely pointless. I mean, it's not like we have better things to do, right? Well... _you _certainly don't."

**"Stop whining. I've heard far too much of that already..."**

"...The meeting then. We all crowded around a secluded coffee table in the lobby to devise strategies and whatnot. I was in the dark for the first bit because there seemed to be a lot of arguing going on between you and Amy about some plan that had already been discussed before rescuing me. The desperate looks that Amy kept sending me were a little disquieting and I had a sinking suspicion that there was something I ought to be very nervous about here. The bickering went on for a while before I finally piped up and demanded to know just what the sodding plan was!"

**"Heh. I remember that."**

"You should, you were _there._ But I digress... Dan was the level-headed one who decided that it might be a wise idea to fill me in. Apparently, once Amy and Dan had contacted you in Denver, you had received a summons to the Lucian council where you were going to be expected to vote on whether or not to dissolve the branch status of a Lucian traitor. It didn't mention my name, but that wasn't a difficult assumption to make."

**"It was good news; it meant he hadn't killed you."**

"Yes, but it still would have completely ruined our contract if I couldn't become the Lucian branch leader—that is, if Amy hadn't found a clever way around it."

**"Brilliant girl. I've always said."**

"It was a good plan. She reasoned that we should_ allow_ Vikram to disown me as a Lucian; not only was it an inevitability at this point, but it would trick him into thinking he'd won. And lulling him into that false sense of security was key to our survival; it would hopefully buy us time until we could find a way to manufacture Orion and amass enough money to buy off the council's loyalty."

**"And then..."**

"....And then _you_ would adopt me."

**"That part was less brilliant..."**

"No kidding. Once you claimed the title of branch leader, I would be able to have my Lucian status reinstated and could be named your heir. And everything would be on track again."

**"Except for me being stuck with such an_ ungrateful _son—"**

"Oh and _you_'ve just been a maternal _wonder_..."

**"—who _never_ visits, I might add! What has it been? Seven months?"**

"Six and a half. And if I'm so ungrateful, why do you want to see me?"

**"Because, insufferable brat that you are, you're still family—"**

"Oh don't start with that!"

**"—And family ought to visit; particularly when members of that family are _dying_."**

"Stop with the guilt trip! I signed a piece of paper, Irina. I don't care what it legally says, you're not my mother. Not in any way that matters."

**"No, just the way that's saving you from being lynched by the council."**

"Why do I bother...? All of that would have been a work of simplistic beauty. But there was one small detail that could have blown the entire thing: my mother. She was also a Lucian by birth. Even if Father did convince the council to dissolve my status, if my mother didn't disown me, you wouldn't be able to adopt me. It was a complicated mess, and all because we were unsure of how much control my Father really exerted over her."

**"It's a pity. Isabel could have made things so much simpler."**

"But knowing that she could dissolve my status at a moment's notice really worked against us. If she waited until I was instated as your heir, Father's supporters would have me killed before the adoption could be finalized and our plans would be ruined. Because, once you bit the dust, the rest of the Lucians—ie. my father—could use Orion however they pleased. We needed a concrete plan; and that involved sending me to trial to provoke my own mother into disowning me as well. At least, this was _your_ twisted, bastardized adaptation to Amy's original plan."

**"Yes, she was dead-set against it."**

"Vehemently so. I still remember her standing up from her seat, leaning over the table and shouting at you that she wasn't going to put me at risk like that. Because she was convinced that if they succeeded in revoking my Lucian protection, there was no way I'd make it out of that trial alive. She didn't care what the contract stated, we would have to find another way. Even if it meant tearing it up and writing a new one right then, we would find another way! Her face was flushed by the time she sank back down, looking as determined and unmovable as ever. She didn't dare glance at me, but I imagine she knew I was staring at her in astonishment."

**"It was quite the speech."**

"It was. Silence rang after she spoke her peace. I know you weren't pleased with her and I was too busy processing all of this to react, but after a long, tense moment, Dan broke the tension:

"'It's not our choice. It's Ian's.' he reasoned, which drew all eyes to me.

"The idiot wasn't right. I was bound by a contract, so technically I was obligated to go through with it—even if it meant risking death. If I broke it,_ you_ would have license to use the clues in any damn manner you pleased, so there was much more at stake there than Dan's oversimplification supposed. Amy stared at me pleadingly, as though asking me not to do it; you were impassive—or giving me that disapproving stare, I can't remember which—; Dan was looking at me piteously, clearly not envious of my situation.

"And I had no idea what to do."

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A/N: Ack! Ok, I'll be honest, this chapter didn't go at all as planned. Initially, there was a whole other part I wanted to incorporate, but the Ian/Amy scene ran a little long and I had too much fun with the Irina/Ian interaction, so it looks like that will need to wait until the next chapter. And if you were a little disappointed by the watery Ian/Amy hurt/comfort stuff, don't worry. More is coming! Just please remember to review.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: For those of you just tuning in now, let me just repeat that I know my story is now classified as AU. The reason is because I started it before the sixth book was published and decided that I'm a little too fond of this story to discontinue it. (Plus, in all fairness, I was honestly _trying_ to do what the books did to her; Jude just beat me to it.)

On a second, apologetic note, I'm sorry this took so long! Actually, I had the first draft done by Boxing Day, but was thoroughly repulsed by it. So I had to scrap almost the entire thing and rewrite each section two or three times before I could stand to look at it. On the plus side, it's crazy long. I'm still not completely happy with it, but I can at least read it without cringing and rapidly pressing the backspace bar. Hope you can too...

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Chapter 11

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**"Well?"**

"Well what?"

**"What happened?"**

"You realize you were there for that too, right? Very well, I'll ramble pointlessly for a little longer. You were all staring at me, expecting me to decide something important when I would rather have just refused to do so. Not that I'm an outright coward, mind you. I was just having difficulty grasping just _why_ I would want to convince my mother to disown me --hence plunging headlong into almost certain death--without some sort of personal incentive to do it (aside from keeping our plans on track). Which brings us to my motivations--"

**"That's plural?"**

"Yes, as a matter of fact. First, I wanted my father to fail and fail miserably. I wanted him humiliated, left destitute and thrown out of the council for what he'd done. Disowning me was a shrewd move—and I could respect his cunning— but firing at me and threatening to hurt Amy was not something I was prepared to forgive. I wanted revenge. But, of course, I also wanted Amy."

**"At least you're consistent..."**

"Err... Sort of. I was in a weird place with her. On the one hand, I knew I'd blown it and that she only wanted to be friends--a fact that irked me to no end, but something I _thought_ I was willing to put up with so long as it kept a tiny window of opportunity open for something more. No, I wasn't mature enough to want her to be happy even if it wasn't with me—and anyone who _can_ either isn't right in the head or just doesn't care enough—but I did want her to be safe. In fact, the thought of her getting hurt made me want to punch something. Which was on schedule to happen if I didn't do something to correct it."

**"So that's why you... oh."**

"Yes. It's why I asked to speak with you privately. Standing up, I told Amy and Dan that I'd announce my decision in the morning and made a move to follow you to the dining room to talk. Dan rolled his eyes at me and muttered something about being dramatic, but Amy regarded me with fearful suspicion. I tried to avoid her eyes, somewhat paranoid that she would divine the truth. Because I wasn't planning on announcing anything. I wasn't planning on saying goodbye."

**"I still think you ought to have explained your decision to—"**

"What? And admit to what we'd both done? She'd just put me back into the category of 'friend' the last thing I needed was to be the 'traitor' again. It's not a fun role, Irina."

**"I don't know if what we did was treachery..."**

"Right! Leaving the _finer_ points of Lucian law out of our contract. _That_'s not dishonest. I'll have the decency to admit, when we drafted it, I wanted to leave room to dispose of Amy and Dan when the time came. They were other shareholders in this enormous potential to profit; when they ceased to have value to me, I wanted them gone. And don't you deny it because I _know_ you were thinking the same thing the night we signed it."

**"...I simply didn't consider that they would _need_ Lucian protection."**

"Bullocks! You're saying it didn't _occur_ to you that my father would want revenge against the conspirators who turned his son against him? You're not fooling anybody. My additions made sure that Amy would have the council's sworn protection, almost equivalent to member status. You'd have to sign a contract stating that, once you took power, you would inform my father that if anything ever happened to her—accident or otherwise—you'd exile him. And I warned you that I'd dig in my heels and refuse to sign the adoption papers or go through with anything unless you made my amendments."

**"Hmm... now I see. You chose_ Amy_ over your revenge."**

"What?"

**"You wanted Vikram exiled, but instead, you allow him to keep his status so long as he didn't harm her. You chose Amy."**

"...It was the smarter move, giving him something to live for. Besides, there were other ways I could have him humiliated—just because they weren't_ ironic_ ways didn't mean they wouldn't be gratifying."

**"You _still_ chose Amy."**

"Fine, yes, if you want to be _poetic_ about it. Not that she saw it that way, mind you."

**"Oh? You saw her before you left then?"**

"Amy was waiting for me alone in the hall outside the dining room. She glanced up anxiously after I emerged from initialling the adoption papers and forcing you to sign my hastily-made contract written on the torn pages of a novel. It felt weird, to be honest. Not that the document was legal while I still belonged to Vikram and my mother, but it didn't mean nothing to me. I was... someone else now. If I wanted to be. And the thought wasn't sitting well. I suppose the unsettled look on my face sort of gave away what I'd done because she guessed the truth before I'd even spoken a word. Her eyes went wide and she stood abruptly."

"'You didn't...N-No, Ian...! Tell me y-you didn't...!'

"She shook her head, trying to will it not to have happened as that heartbroken look crossed her face. It made me feel wretched inside to see it. I was the bad guy to her once again. The unforgiveable ass that had made her already-difficult life just that much more painful. For the third time (or was it the fourth?) Sure, it was a small consolation that my intentions were somewhat honourable. But it didn't make it any easier to do."

**"That poor girl..."**

"I looked away, trying to get myself together before I lost it and did something stupid. Again. I had to remind myself that this was necessary to protect her. To protect other people too, of course, although they were less important. I couldn't lose sight of that just because she didn't want me to get hurt. Bracing myself, I said with all the flippancy in the world that I'd been in the market for a new family; my old one was starting to rot. She glowered at me, too stunned and upset by my attitude to organize her thoughts so quickly. I took the opportunity to brush past her as I made my way to the elevator."

**"What? You just _left_ her there?"**

"I said her tongue wasn't working, not her legs. No, Amy followed me, and with her came that angry, judging glare. I knew I was about to pay for what I'd said. It was probably the rudest, most insensitive thing to ever come out of my mouth, which is saying something. But sometimes, you just have to be cruel to be kind."

**"Please tell me she didn't let you get away with it that easily!"**

"Amy? Come on, do you _know_ her? Of course she didn't! She started in on me the moment the elevator doors closed behind us. She called me a moron, a liar, a coward and told me I was just abandoning them once again, running away because I was afraid. Her face had gone red and there were tears in her eyes that she kept blinking away. I kept silent, letting her speak and trying hard to ignore the niggling part of me that wanted to cave and stay with her. But sanity prevailed. Eventually, the elevator doors slid open at my floor and I made a move to get out. Amy, however, was quick to block my path, placing herself between me and the exit."

**"What did she say?"**

"She asked me what the real reason was. Why was I doing this when there were ways around it? I ignored her and told her to move, but she stubbornly refused to until I'd given her an answer. Fed up with this entire thing, I snapped and told her she ought to be happy that I was leaving. It was what she'd wanted, wasn't it? Hadn't she told me to get out? Hadn't _she_ been the one to push_ me_ away? And now, after all that had happened in Detroit, had she really thought it would be _possible_ for us to work together again? I might as well do something productive on my own."

**"But..."**

"I pushed past her, trying not to notice the hurt look on her face or feel the heavy pain in my chest. I didn't need this. I didn't need doubts and I didn't need regret. It was the right thing to do! It shouldn't have been so hard. Amy stared after me for a few moments before she chased me down and grabbed me by the arm and jumped in my way once more. I could feel her grip shaking as she tried to physically restrain me. She was stuttering so terribly by then that I had trouble understanding her:

"'You kn-know that w-w-wasn't what I m-meant! I-I... n-not now, I...I...'

"It was strange. Amy had that look on her face again, like there was something she was just dying to get out, but couldn't get up the nerve. She looked just so flustered, upset and hurt that I almost couldn't meet her eyes. I think she must really have believed that my decision to leave had been her fault. Which was too bad, but really, what was I supposed to do?"

**"How about the truth? Hmm? Did you even consider that?"**

"No, because I'm_ not_ a drooling imbecile. At least this way she was under the mistaken impression that I was being noble and self-sacrificing. If I'd told her that I'd been out to screw them over from the beginning, she'd never trust me again. Not that she did anyway, mind you, but...—Oh shut it! At least this way I didn't have to bloody well _apologize_!"

**"Huh... It's suddenly clear to me why I never married... Men are all idiots..."**

"No, they're not. Women just have obscenely high expectations set by unrealistic, two-dimensional characters pulled straight from all that harlequin shi—"

**"Oh enough! No one cares about your opinions! Just get to the damn story."**

"Fine. It'd be useless and creepy to debate _that_ with you anyway... Right, now where was I? Oh yes, that whole miserable conversation. Simply put, I asked her why it even mattered to her what I did. This was going to make her plan work; that was what she should be simpering about, not my fate."

**"..."**

"What? What's that look for?"

**"Modesty really doesn't become you. _I _think you were just fishing for affection."**

"...Perhaps a little. Maybe I did want to hear that she really_ cared_ about me, or at the very least didn't want me riddled with bullets and thrown in the Thames because that would make it considerably more difficult us to date. S_omething_, anyway. Which was apparently too much to hope for. She glared at me, with what she thought was probably a menacing scowl but in all reality looked disarmingly cute, and insisted that I was her friend and that she didn't want me to see me get hurt. It was nauseatingly fluffy and so deeply cemented into the category of 'things I did not want to hear' that it left me rankled. _Friends_. The word had a dirty, hateful sound to it as it rang in my head. Because it hit me then, looking into her eyes, that that was all we would ever be. She'd never forgive me for all of my misdeeds or trust me again; not in any way that truly counted. Even if we were 'friends' after this (provided that we lived that long), I would always be the creep who left her for dead in a bat cave. And she would always be holding back. The most pathetic part was that I should have recognized it the night I left Detroit, when she absolutely refused to believe that I loved her. And still, I'd continued to entertain those fanciful notions of a future that would never happen, holding her hand as she cried and laying the brickwork for a friendship that I thought could be more. But now, faced with the ugly truth, I found myself feeling foolish, frustrated and utterly alone."

**"I don't think you give her enough credit."**

"_Really_? Thanks for the insight. You are a _marvel_..."

**"Hmph...! I see _why _she hesitated though. You were saying?"**

"Yes. Between my self-pity and despair, and watching the world crashing down around me, I chose the petty route. Scrunching up my face in disgust, I told her to piss off. I didn't want to be her friend. Something she might have picked up on if she'd had half a—ow! What the--?! Don't _kick_ me!"

**"Need I remind you that you're supposed to be in _love_ with her!"**

"Yes, the part of her with a _brain_! Not the annoying, naïve little ten-year-old part of her that refused to acknowledge her own feelings in absolute terror that they might actually be reciprocated. Okay, yes, it was a little more complicated, what with trust issues and all that, and I already admitted that I was acting a bit immature. But only a little bit. She was still mostly in the wrong there."

**"You didn't give her a chance!"**

"What are you talking about? I gave her the perfect chance to tell me she liked me! She was just too scared to go through with it. I remember her face falling as I closed the door on her. The quiet and stillness of the room was unnerving considering how shaken I felt inside. I sighed to myself, leaning my head back against the door, staving off the immediate doubts that began to attack. Was I just fooling myself again thinking that I wouldn't come right back for her? If we pulled this off, would I really be able to stay away, or was inevitable that I'd give in to a life of pining for her? I liked to think I had more dignity than that, but when it came to Amy... I just didn't know anymore. There wasn't a lot that I _wouldn't _do for her. But I had to think of myself; when it came down to it, not being in her life was better than pretending to be her friend as she moved on. _Anything_ was better than doing that again, I told myself sternly. With that thought, I snatched the phone off the desk and started booking a flight to Paris for the council the next morning. It was time to grow up and move on."

**"Wait! But... how did it happen then?"**

"How did what happen?"

**"You and Amy! The story you've been telling all this time! How did you get together then if you_ left_ that morning?"**

"Oh that. Yes, I'm getting there... That night, I won't go into because it wasn't of much interest. I think I slept well, but bugger if I can really remember. I know I was wide awake by four am, feeling like I was rotting from the inside. It was impossible not to. I'd told the one person in my life who actually gave a damn about me (and no, my _mum_ didn't count) to screw off and hadn't looked back. All the clever, noble reasons that had sounded so wonderful in my head four hours ago were beginning to fall flat to me, replaced by a growing desire to bury my head beneath a pillow and forget about the whole thing."

**"I wish I could say I'm surprised by that."**

"—I _didn't,_ thank you very much! I went through with the _bleeding_ plan. At 4:30 I left, fed up with my traitorous thoughts and reasoning that I had to buy a suitable pair of shoes for the council. It felt strange to have no possessions to carry as I abandoned my room, letting the door slam behind me. I half expected Amy to be sitting outside, legs curled beneath her and waiting for me, but she wasn't. The corridor was empty. I briefly contemplated going to her room to see her one last time, but that could only have proved to be an unmitigated disaster. So, I didn't."

**"When did you see her then?"**

"It was on my way out as I was passing through the lobby. There was a solitary taxi was waiting out front for me, the driver leaning against it smoking a cigarette. The sky was still dark, but the rain had eased up to a light drizzle. I paused as I passed the reception desk, eyeing the lone figure seated by the window. Another day, I might have missed her, but I suppose that that morning something overly sentimental in me still believed that Amy would never let me leave without saying goodbye. And this time, I wasn't disappointed..."

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_There she was, knees pulled up on the lobby couch by the front window, staring out at the rain as it rippled down the side of the building casting moving shadows over her slender form. Her hair was a bit of a mess, like someone had combed it with a rosebush and there were deep bags beneath her eyes as though she hadn't slept at all, but all the same, I couldn't help staring at her. Even at her worst, she was stunning... Why was I doing this again?, I asked myself as she glanced up briefly and caught sight of me._

_Her eyes locked on mine and all of the whimsy and sorrow hardened in anger._

_"What are you doing up?" I asked her, careful to keep my tone distant. Now wasn't the time to ruin my plans with emotion._

_"I-I wanted to say that -that...you..." Amy stuttered. She looked like she would crumple and sink back into meekness at first, but then she found her confidence and really let me have it, "You... y-you're unbelievable!"_

_I raised an eyebrow, "What? For not wanting to be your friend? Or for leaving?"_

_"Both! How c-could you do that?!" she cried at me semi-hysterically, utterly unconcerned with who might hear us. With a scowl on her face, she jumped up from the couch, "After ev-everything we've... you j-just want t-to end it like this?"_

_"End what, exactly?" I said flatly, regarding her with cold eyes._

_Her mouth hung open in outrage, on the verge of letting something slip, but then eventually caught my meaning and closed it. Something guilt-ridden flashed behind her expression and a shallow blush sprouted on her cheeks. She looked embarrassed although, to her credit, her spirit never waned: "Just... o-our friendship. I-I thought that actually meant something to you. I thought at least that was r-real."_

_"Ah! Now, you see, there's the problem." I told her condescendingly, feeling the icy prickle of injustice blooming in my stomach, "You'll never trust a thing I say. So, why—?"_

_"That's not true!" Amy cut me off sharply. She seemed frustrated with me, as though I were the one being dense here, refusing to see what was beyond obvious to her, "I t-trust you now! And I've always wanted to! I was just afraid to... Th-then I heard what you said to N-Natalie and—"_

_"What?" I asked, caught of guard by the mention of my sister, "...What did I say to Natalie?"_

_This question was met with silence. Almost instantly, she seemed to flush a much darker shade of red and began to stare at her feet. Perplexed, my mind raced, trying to recall just what I had said that she might have overheard. It was hard to remember; although it was only a few hours ago, it felt like months had passed. I recalled being rude to her and having a biscuit thrown at my head, but other than that..._

_"Y-You don't remember, then?" she asked quietly, sounding a little dismayed. "That's fine; i-it wasn't all that important. I-It just... it made me realize that..."_

_"What? What did I say?" I asked starting to grow irritated by all of this. I was frustrated that I couldn't remember what was so bloody important that she'd bothered to remember it and even more so that she wouldn't tell me what it was! Thoughtlessly, I took a step towards her, which proved to be a mistake when she promptly tensed up, hunching her shoulders uncomfortably and going as stiff as a board._

_"That's... just n-never mind," she trailed off shaking her head vigorously, her posture screaming at me to leave it alone. Nonetheless, when she looked back next, she seemed to relax and soften a little, looking for answers instead of blaming me. With a frazzled little sigh, she said: "Look, I-I just... I want to know what's going on! One minute you're telling me th-that you wouldn't trade my friendship f-for anything and th-the next, you...you..."_

_I felt my own face begin to redden a little for that. I supposed I was being a little inconsistent. Maybe I did have it all wrong; maybe there was a chance for a real us if I stuck around and played at being friends. But even in that moment, as I studied her face, all I could see was that smothering kindness and once again felt the nagging reality that this was going nowhere._

_"Right...," I hesitated, trying hard to drum up a convincing lie that would explain it, but nothing came to me. I know I could have just insulted her or said something else cruel and befitting of my usual persona, but for whatever reason I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not to Amy. Under her sad, searching gaze, I could feel myself cracking. In defeat, I glanced away, opting for as close to the truth as I could give her, "I had a change of heart on that. But my leaving is for your benefit, believe me."_

_"For my benefit?" she repeated slowly. Her eyes narrowed and I suddenly realized that that had been the wrong answer. She was back to glaring at me again as she rounded the coffee table to stand before me in all her rage, "Just like running away in Detroit was? Tell me, Ian, did you even consider what I wanted then? Did you consider Dan's opinion? Irina's?"_

_"You told me to get out!"_

_"Because I was mad; not because I wanted you to get yourself k-killed!"_

_I clenched my jaw and said through gritted teeth; "I didn't intend to then and I don't intend to now. Not that it's any of your bloody business what I do, so long as it doesn't affect the contract."_

_"This has nothing to do with the contract! You're my friend and—!"_

_"No, I'm not!" I cried, glowering at her for being so bloody insistent and thick-headed. She flinched at the level of my voice, but I didn't back down from my position, "Get that out of your head! It's not going to work!"_

_"Why not?" she challenged me stepping forwards again, a mixture of defiance and frustration etched plainly on her face. It stung me harder than I'd have thought to see her in pain, not knowing why one of the few people she had left wanted out of her life. She was a foot from me when she stopped and crossed her arms over her chest as though expecting an answer, "Wh-What is so impossible about that?"_

_"Because...-!" I began, then realize that I was shouting for all the world to hear. And indeed, some of the world appeared to be listening, judging by the pairs of eyes that were watching us from the receptionist's desk. With a withering glare that made the two of them look away, I checked myself. Telling her the truth wouldn't make this any better; what was the point in addressing it, "Never mind. Look, it's my decision. And if you have any sense left, you'll respect it."_

_I meant that to bring an end to this rather uncomfortable situation, but Amy simply wasn't content to let it go._

_"Th-that's..." she hesitated, as though unsure of where to start with correcting what I'd said, then abruptly shook her head, "That's crap! You don't do that to your friends! If you want me to respect your d-decision, fine! I will! But at least give me your respect! Give me an explanation!"_

_I stared at her, stunned into silence. I was angry, mind you, but I could see the logic in it and it was oddly disarming. Trust Amy to come up with something like that. I sighed, realizing that she was right. Maybe I did owe her that much; she had saved my life after all. But she wanted the truth, something I was not terribly well versed in telling..._

_"Fine..." I bit out, "You want to know why we can't be friends?"_

_"Yes! I do!"_

_"I'm in love with you!" I told her honestly, watching as, once again, she blushed deeply and glanced away, "See? You still don't believe it, and even if you do, you don't trust me enough to make something of it-- and fine! I've given you plenty of reason to think that... Doesn't change how I feel though and it doesn't change the fact that you clearly don't feel the same way. I've just finally realized that."_

_Amy opened her mouth, but when no sound issued forth, she quickly closed it, her face as red and bright as I'd ever seen it. Saying she looked uncomfortable would have been vastly understating it; terrified maybe. Her eyes avoided mine for such a long time afterwards that I almost wasn't even sure she was listening to me at all. Probably lost to the world, thinking back to that kiss I'd stolen from her earlier and realizing that I might actually not be full of it. When she was silent in response, I figured she might be beginning to understand._

_"I'm not used to being denied what I want. I either take it or I find something better." I told her calmly, watching as her expression twisted into an argumentative look. I was quick to cut her off, "Now, you may have your moral qualms about that, but it works for me and I'm not changing it."_

_She was quiet, still too embarrassed by what I'd said earlier or too disgusted to talk, but managed a slow nod in response. I had a feeling she didn't quite agree with me, but vocalizing that thought wasn't something she was capable of right then._

_"All of that to say that this can't end well." I told her resignedly, "Either I stick around, constantly trying to get something out of you and making both our lives miserable in the process, or I leave now and go find someone new to be with. I'm pretty sure about which one you'd prefer."_

_Amy stared at me as though she finally understood where I was coming from. It seemed a bit strange to me; I'd have thought that she'd have been angry again and start accusing me of speaking for her, but instead, she just looked... empty. Her lips parted, but once more words failed her. Another day, I'd have probably taken the opportunity to get close to her and comfort her. It left me with a hollow feeling knowing that that was all over. This was something Amy would need to deal with on her own. Her eyes slid closed as I strode past her and I almost missed the hand that rose to cover her mouth as I kept walking._

_"Maybe I'll see you once the trial's over," I called out as the automatic doors slid open before me._

_As I trudged out into the rain, I wondered--as it seemed I always did now--if I'd been in the right this time. I smiled to myself wryly, recognizing Amy's moral-compass influence. Months ago, I never would have questioned my own judgment, never would have considered what was 'right' or anyone else's opinion for that matter. It scared me to think that I was on my own now, but at the same time, a burden had been lifted. Amy knew. She knew exactly how I felt and, if I'd done my job, she probably knew I was being sincere._

_But still, some things could never be undone..._

_"Train station," I told the man waiting out front of the taxi. He took one last puff on the cigarette, eyeing the now-sopping-wet slippers on my feet before dropping the butt to the pavement and circling around the car to the driver's seat without so much as a grunt. The rain was a soft mist that quickly soaked my face and the thin cotton shirt I had on as I stared out into the night. Odd as it seemed, my thoughts turned to my father. Somewhere out there, he was probably resting up for this afternoon or maybe fastidiously preparing his speech so as not to omit a single incriminating event that could lead to my banishment from the council. The thought made me smile. His life was simple, uncomplicated by emotion and attachments, and appealing as that felt right then, I realized that I probably wouldn't trade what I had now. At least I knew I was alive._

_"You idiot!" I heard her cry before I could even turn around._

_"That's a new one—" I almost got out before she grabbed my arm, spun me around and shoved me against the car. I grunted as my elbow connected awkwardly against the glass and glared at the offending hand still holding me against it. It wasn't that she had a firm grip really; more that she'd caught me off guard. I glanced up to find that Amy was alarmingly close to me, looking as furious as hell unleashed._

_"Y-You...!" she stuttered, shaking badly as she glared at me, "... Y-You're wrong!"_

_"About what?" I asked raising an eyebrow, feeling more than a little impatient myself. I knew she was angry with me and in pain over wanting to internalize everyone's guilt, but really! We'd already beaten this topic to death with a crowbar. There wasn't anything she could have left to say. "Would you rather I hung around you pissing and moaning over this unrequited love rubbish? Sorry, but that's not my style. And it shouldn't be yours either. So would you stop making it harder for yourself and just let it go!"_

_Amy was silent in reply, staring at me with a strange, determined look in her eye as the rain poured down on us. The hand that held me against the car dropped back to her side, which I took as confirmation that she'd realized I was right. After a long, tense pause wherein she said nothing, I sighed huffily._

_"Right then," I said shrugging my now-free arm, "Run al—"_

_"Sh-Shut up," she whispered a moment before she kissed me._

_It lasted only a couple seconds; the rough, inexperienced brush of her lips moving hesitantly against mine. I don't know how long it was before she slowly and deliberately broke away; I think I'd been too stunned by it to respond or even register what was happening until it was over. It didn't feel real, like I was somewhere else watching what I'd wanted for so long happening. Her tearful eyes shone in the light from the streetlamps as she searched my face nervously. I could feel her shaking against me, her breathing growing ragged with fear and her cheeks bright. But even through her shyness, there was an undeniable happiness there. And when she spoke, I noticed that she kept biting her lip to hide her smile._

_"I-I don't... I don't l-love you..." she stammered, speaking to the pavement beneath us out of anxiety._

_I froze, confused, disappointed, and feeling like I'd just been smacked in the gut. I was about to ask just what the hell that had been about when she looked up abruptly and cut me off once again._

_"I-I... really l-like you though," Amy said, blushing brighter. Intense fear and self-doubt still flickered behind her eyes, as though she were still afraid that I was about to reject her, or say something cripplingly rude that would wreck everything._

_I just nodded mutely, feeling my heart begin to come back to life, as though it had just realized that this was actually happening. I just stared at her, hardly daring to believe it. She was an utter mess, her eyes red and puffy from crying and the shoulders of her shirt soaked once again, but she was there and she was real. This was actually happening. Amy smiled self-consciously, tucking her hair behind her ears._

_"Wh-What....? S-Say something!"_

_I smiled back at her, "About bloody time."_

*=*=*

A/N: Yay! An entire chapter devoted to IanxAmy! I'm sure many of you probably think she was OOC to do that, but I wanted to write the impossible (and avoid becoming repetitive) and if I've even made you half-believe that it could happen, then I'm pleased with that. So please review! Tell me your thoughts! I'd love to hear them.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Another epically long chapter. And I have to thank girlwithwings329 for the inspiration. Her predictions made a whole lot more sense than my own idea ever did and--better yet-- gave me an opportunity to add more drama! (which is the very reason I live and breathe)

So, for the awesome ideas, this chapter is for you, girlwithwings329!

One other thing: I know the seventh book is coming out in a few days. If you review (and I really hope you do, because they always, _always_ kick me in the butt to get these chapters written sooner) I beg of you, PLEASE don't put spoilers in your review! I ruined the last book for myself by reading them elsewhere, but it's my resolution not to do the same with this one. And my access to the books is pretty limited, so it's going to be weeks before I finish it.

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Chapter 12

*=*=*

"So does that answer your question?"

**"Well... I suppose."**

"Perfect. Now about _your _half of the bargain—"

**"Tell me the rest of it."**

"The rest of it? You_ know_ the rest! Again! You were there for—"

**"Yes, the trial. But not what happened before it."**

"But...! I thought we were done! I thought that was all you wanted to know! That was how me and Amy got together. End of story."

**"But that's _not_ the end of the story! You still went to Paris."**

"Err... yes. But what has that got to do with me and Amy? That was us being _separated_ again, not together. I think that's technically the_ opposite_ of what you wanted to hear."

**"Oh stop with the semantics! I meant _before_ you were separated! You've started this damn thing, now you might as well finish it! And I never heard what happened to you _after_ the trial either. So, tell me all of it."**

"I thought you had eyes and ears everywhere."

**"Paris wasn't in my purview. That was your father's city—Francophobe that he is. I had no idea if you were even _alive_ after what happened."**

"Hn... If it'll send you to your grave happy—and sooner rather than later—I suppose I could go over it."

"**Start from right after you got together. I don't want you leaving anything out!"**

"Wouldn't dream of it... Well, you'll be pleased to know that we celebrated finally getting together after months of tension and doubt by having our first fight. Well, not_ really_ our first fight—technically, we'd been fighting each other since we were children— but our first 'couple fight'."

**"Unbelievable... You _would_ find a way to ruin things like that!"**

"Hey! I had every reason to be upset! She wanted to come _with_ me."

**"Go with you? You're saying that was _her_ idea?"**

"What? You think I'd_ willingly_ put her in danger after it took so long to get her? I didn't have a choice; she was determined to come and it was impossible to ditch her because some_ idiot_ had already shown her where the Lucian stronghold was located."

**"... Yes, well... I can _hardly_ be blamed for that. They followed me."**

"Right, you're not incompetent; just _really_ inobservant. Is that it? In any event, she knew where it was and was intent on not letting me go through it alone—particularly once she realized that I didn't have a solid plan for getting out of there."

**"But how would putting herself in danger too help you?"**

"That's what I asked, but you know how stubborn she is once she's made up her mind. Either I stayed at the hotel and we figured out a new plan or she was going with me. I stared at her like she'd gone mad as she grabbed me by the hand and tugged me back towards the hotel. Every logical reason that I threw at her not to come was returned with a pointed look that seemed to ask me patronizingly if I was finally ready to come up with a different solution. It was at some point after that that I snatched my hand away and scowled at her: this was a power play."

**"What? Even the kiss?"**

"No, not that. Amy can be conniving when she wants to—apparently that's_ my_ influence on _her_— but she's by no means _cruel_. And I knew it the second I started to accuse her of manipulating my feelings to get her way. She blanched in horror at what I was suggesting and broke down, protesting that she hadn't meant that at all. She only wanted to be with me and that involved keeping me safe. I tried to make her realize that the window of opportunity to act was closing on us. We had to do something now or risk losing our only shot at keeping Orion in safe hands—once you bit the dust, of course."

**"Hmm... I don't suppose she went for that?"**

"No, and we argued that point to death. But in the end, she decided that I was probably wasn't going to change my mind about what to do and still wanted to join me. I let her under the condition that she would stay far away from any danger and would only help me to _set up_ an escape plan. We came to an agreement and left for Paris soon after."

**"Without a word of this plan to me! Irresponsible little brats! Both of you—!"**

"Oh stop it! You had enough notice; I mean, we told _Dan._ Amy refused to leave without explaining things to him and confirming a rendez-vous point first. He was only half awake when she roused him and he continued to yawn sleepily as we circled different locations on a map of Paris and pinpointed the hour he could expect us. Naturally, Dan insisted that he was coming, but we felt that three of us would attract too much attention from those already looking for us. And, although Amy didn't dare voice it to him, we both knew that if we didn't come back alive, we'd need someone to carry out the contract in our stead and to hold you to your word. She pulled him into a tight hug before she left, whispering into his ear that everything would be all right. That nothing would go wrong..."

**"... She couldn't have known."**

"No, neither of us saw it coming. Least of all me... Getting to the City of Lights was a bit of a challenge since I didn't have a passport or—for that matter—_any_ identification on me. Amy had a fake one with her, but when I took a look at it, I realized that it was a pretty obvious forgery. Anyone who bothered to check more than the picture would be able to spot it. That meant flying was out of the question, which left us with two routes into France: the Chunnel or the ferry. We took a bus down to Dover just before sunrise but, once there, the fact that we didn't have a car forced us into taking the ferry across the English Channel. Amy used her passport to get on board like any other passenger while I was forced to make my way by posing as a luggage handler."

**"Wait! Wait! You? Menial labour?! I-I don't believe it!"**

"Yes, yes. Amusing, I know—"

**"Not _just_ amusing—!"**

"Oh, let it go—"

**"—That's priceless! Just priceless! What I wouldn't have given to see that! What I wouldn't have _paid_—!"**

"—Right, well, if you're done having a nice chuckle over that, may I continue? They did come around for passport checks on the crew, but I was able to break into one of my off-duty 'co-worker's' lockers and borrow his ID. Unfortunately, after that, I still had to work with my 'supervisor' below deck. He was a dull-witted chap with, unfortunately, a lot to say about nothing and I spent that interminable hour and a half cleaning the floor of the cargo bay and listening to him natter away. But at long last, we reached the port city of Callais, its white concrete wharfs almost glowing in the pink haze of the early-morning sun."

**"And from there, you made it into Paris all right?"**

"With remarkable ease. We met up and took a shuttle to the city, which was relatively easy to find, although it did help that I was spoke French fluently. The entire time though, I was nervous, realizing more with each passing second just how insane what I was planning to do actually was. It was miraculous that I escaped the first time; what made me think I'd be so lucky again? Amy's presence only added to it; not only did I have to keep myself alive, but now her survival was topping my priority list. As much as I loved her, I would rather have been doing this on my own."

**"Not that you would have lived if you hadn't brought her."**

"No, I don't suppose I would have... My trial started at one and it was barely nine in the morning by the time we arrived in Paris. Neither of us were hungry, probably too apprehensive about what was to come to have any appetite, but we still found a café several blocks away from the stronghold to sit and begin planning. I started by drawing the layout of the stronghold over ten napkins, detailing what each room was used for and where all the exits were located. And naturally, Amy's genius mind went to work."

**"It was impressive."**

"Yes, well, it took _both _of us to plan it out; Amy with her talent for engineering miracles and my intimate knowledge of the building's layout. I'd spent most of my childhood wandering around, breaking into rooms and discovering long-forgotten passageways during the tedious hours when my parents attended meetings there. No Lucian alive knew the stronghold better than me and, one hour and two plates of hors d'oeuvres later, we had the makings of a solid getaway plan."

"**You mean, she designed all that without even _seeing_ the stronghold?"**

"WE! _We _designed that. That's her _and_ me! Not just Amy... And while she wanted to see it, it was a risk that I wasn't going to let her take. Not that they were even expecting me to show up, but security inside the building was tight enough and our plan would be blown before it even got started if we were caught sneaking in. Besides, I reminded her sharply, she was only helping me to plan it; she wasn't going in with me. This was met with a stony silence as Amy took a sip from her drink and glared at me knowingly. I scowled back at her and told her she could forget it; I wasn't about to allow her to break the _one_ stipulation I'd imposed on her coming with me."

**"Neither should you have! What were you thinking?"**

"What? Now you're attacking me for being on your side? Do you even _listen _to what I say or do you jump right to blaming me?"

**"I know she went with you! Obviously you let her."**

"It wasn't a matter of 'letting her'. It was a matter of not having the resources to pull it off alone; something she was only too quick to remind me of. She had come here with the intention of preventing my death and so she wasn't going to sit idly by and watch that happen. Besides, her part in this was very minimal. Sneaking in through the fire escape and barricading herself in the armoury was pretty low risk considering the attention that the activities below would draw. She'd be fine."

**"Don't tell me you fell for that!"**

"O ye of little faith. Of course not. I told her that was a ripe load and if she took one step towards the stronghold, I'd chain her to a lamp post until she came to her senses. Strangely enough, she took that the wrong way, snapping that she'd already watched me throw myself to the wolves once--and look how that had turned out! Why would I force her to watch the same thing again?"

**"You caved, didn't you?"**

"I didn't _cave..._ I just considered that maybe she had a point. Besides, if our situations were reversed, it wouldn't have mattered what she'd made me promise, I'd have gone with her regardless. And we both stood a better chance of survival if I lived through this."

**"That would be 'caving', boy."**

"I didn't--! Oh never mind! We both decided to go in the end. After that, we finished discussing the plan and making calculations based on our best guesses about the building's structural supports. It's funny. I still remember what she said just as we were putting the finishing touches on our initial design. She had stopped to stare at me curiously for a moment before breaking out in a shy grin and glancing away. I asked her what was wrong, but she just laughed:

"'No, it's just this... this isn't exactly what I pictured for our first d-date,' she said blushing, but with an absurd smile on her face.

"I grinned and raised an eyebrow, agreeing that this was more of a third date sort of thing. Truth be told, I hadn't even considered that that was what this was, but when I looked around, I realized I could have done a lot worse. We were in Paris, at a café, and conversing about how to prevent my bloodthirsty relatives from slaughtering me like a stuck pig... Two out of three wasn't bad."

**"Oh come on! That's not a date! That's a _meeting_!"**

"Fine then, but it was the last 'meeting' that Amy and I had for a long time. Oh and by the way, I did buy her a flower from a street vendor on the Champs Elysées as we were tracing our exit route from the Lucian stronghold. It was a nice, orange tiger lily that the merchant helped pin behind her ear. Amy protested of course, telling me that it was only going to get in the way once we had to start running, but still, she didn't take it off as we walked through the crowded streets together. Being in Paris alone really gave us a chance to air a few things that had needed to be said for a while. Red-faced and stammering, Amy confessed that she'd had feelings for me longer than I'd ever had them for her. But in Detroit, she'd been too angry and mistrustful to let anything happen. It wasn't until she overheard Natalie demand to know if I loved her that she had realized I wasn't lying about how I really felt. She'd made up her mind to tell me at the hotel, but her nerves just kept getting the best of her. When I was about to leave that morning, she couldn't stand the thought of me dying never knowing how she really felt. And the rest... well, actually, that was about it at that point."

**"You know just how lucky you are, don't you?"**

"You have a strange definition of _luck._"

**"I meant for _ever_ having been with her. Not for what happened next."**

"I suppose... With the plan in place, I was a few minutes late arriving at the Lucian Stronghold that afternoon. Above all, My father abhorred tardiness and it amused me how much this would just stick in his craw to have me interrupt his precious council. Naturally, I was stopped at the entrance by two suspicious-looking guards who patted me down for any weapons I might have brought. I'm not sure that they recognized me, to be honest. Perhaps it was more that I looked familiar. But the moment I sauntered down the steps to the subterranean Council War Room, a hush descended upon the gathered Lucian members and all eyes were suddenly riveted on me. There was no question about who I was, that much was clear; everyone before me knew my face and the stunned looks on theirs at my unexpected presence were priceless. I halted for effect at the boardroom table, all the while ignoring the tingling fear creeping up my spine and across my fingertips. There was no turning back now."

**"I was actually afraid you weren't going to show up at all."**

"Yes, I remember. As I took my place at the opposite end from where Father sat, I spied you at his right hand. You looked almost relieved to see me, which was the only thing that really made you stick out from the stunned faces. Next to you, Father's searing gaze pierced through me with such hatred I had never seen him bare openly. I took a small amount of pride in the fact that I was probably the only one in the world to drive him to it and still be alive. But in stark contrast, Mother looked deathly pale and disheartened, probably wishing I'd had the sense to just stay away."

**"I'm afraid that was my one regret in all of this: taking her son away."**

"Yeah, she still _really_ hates you... I won't say too much about the trial because, for such a climactic thing, it really was quite dull—and you were there for it. There was the opening bureaucratic tedium, followed by Father's long-winded speech listing my many crimes against both the council and him personally. That in particular was so terribly extensive that I'm afraid I didn't pay attention to the last half of it, more preoccupied with just how bloody_ long_ this was taking. I know he exaggerated my involvement in the plot against the Lucian branch and blamed me for a score of other offenses that I was fairly certain none of us conspirators had had any part in to begin with. But there was no point in correcting him; it was my word against his and—while half of the members knew him to be a filthy liar—no one else was about to pipe up on behalf of a traitor. In the middle of his rant though, I noticed a small crack appear in the ceiling in the corner furthest from the door-- directly below where I knew the armoury to be. A small piddling stream of water began to drip gently onto the tile floor, but everyone in the room was too enraptured by Father's colourful speech to notice it. I smiled to myself secretly and turned back to my trial."

**"Well, _I_ noticed it."**

"Sure you did, once the leak got a little bigger and the dark, wet circle on the ceiling became visible to_ anyone_ who was as bored as I was. A security guard noticed and placed a plastic bucket beneath it just as father launched into what had happened the previous night. In his version though, Amy hadn't thrown Orion; _I_ had. Right after telling him that he and the rest of the council could all burn in hell. I chuckled at that, my snicker echoing off the walls of the war room and drawing both curious and amazed looks in my direction. This, I did protest. Standing up from my seat and stretching my legs at last, I admitted to having conspired with the Cahills to collect the 39 clues, but I wished nothing ill against the council. In fact, I asserted that I merely acted as I had in order to ensure a Lucian victory, seeing as the _others _representing the Lucian branch were clearly incapable of it."

**"Ha! I remember that! And the look you shot me."**

"Yes, well, resentment towards you wasn't a particularly _difficult _emotion to portray. I added that my attack against Father was only done so that the victory stayed firmly in _my_ hands, rather than being stolen by an envious,_ unworthy_ competitor-- as any respectable Lucian in my place would have. To end it, I promised them all wealth and the power of the 39 clues, should they allow me to keep my status as a Lucian."

**"You did sway a few of them with that speech."**

"Not enough, but that wasn't the point of my rhetoric. The point was to distract Father and to convince him that I thought I could persuade the council to let me keep my status. But of course, I knew that was impossible. Father had already bought two thirds of the council members; they weren't going to be moved my flowery promises. Meanwhile, the crack in the ceiling grew, spilling more water onto the floor. I saw it overflow the bucket as it grew, the edge of the pool creeping beneath the chairs of those seated nearest to it while I sat back down. At that point, my heart started to race. Amy was working too fast; I wasn't going to be able to finish this in time!"

**"I'll admit, I hadn't realized that was part of_ your_ plan."**

"Subtlety was the idea . Father glared, proclaiming that I was a lying traitor who had tried to _murder_ another Lucian. I could have argued that that particular sample of Orion couldn't have killed anyone, but time was ticking away and I kept silent. After an eternity, the matter moved to a vote: whether Father ought to be allowed to disown me as a Lucian. It was hard watching the men and women whose faces I had known since childhood vote in favour of dissolving my protective status. Watching you abstain wasn't terribly surprising or painful, but Mother's vote was another matter. Grim-faced, she slowly raised her hand in abstention, casting me a vaguely apologetic look as she did."

**"It wouldn't have mattered if she had voted differently. The council was against you as it was."**

"I know. And in all practicality, it was a good sign for our plan, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. Moments later, I heard the water stop gushing and knew that time was about to run out. Father had already begun his closing speech thanking the council members for seeing reason. I'd intended to wait until he'd finished to raise the issue, but time was forcing my hand. Cutting Father off, I stood from my seat and pointed in my mother's direction.

"'I think you're forgetting something. She's a _blood_ Lucian!' I cried spitting with pretend rage, although my arm still shook involuntarily, 'While I am _her _son, you can't exile me! And _she_ won't do it! She doesn't have the _heart_ to! It's why she hasn't_ left_ you yet and it's why she isn't going to give me up! So, you've lost, Vikram! I'm still a Lucian! So, believe me when I say this isn't the end! I have the 39 clues already, or did you forget that? And I promise, what I failed to do earlier, I _will_ do now! _You_ and that psychotic little bitch you call my _sister_ will--!'

"I don't know whether it was the remark about her leaving him or the threat against Natalie that did it, but something I said pushed her over the edge. I had more to say, to really put the nail in the coffin and cement myself as an arrogant, murderous prick in front of everyone, but my mother interrupted in that soft-spoken yet commanding manner of hers. In a voice free of emotion she said that would like to raise the motion to disown me as well."

**"If it's any consolation, it was well played... on your end."**

"Thanks. It was precisely what I'd wanted, but at the same time, it was hard to feel victorious when heart felt like it was collapsing in grief. I'd known beforehand what going to the council would entail, but up until it actually happened, I hadn't been truly prepared. The hollow look I sent her after she'd spoken wasn't an act in the slightest and I highly doubted that the heartbroken one I recieved in return was either. It was a silent and tearless goodbye that passed between us; both knowing that my fate was sealed. Father stood next to her, a comforting hand on her shoulder, but still smirking for all his worth at the emotion playing out in my expression. It made my blood boil to see it and I had to restrain myself from running up and beating that arrogant look off his bloody face. The new matter went to a vote as well, but almost no one protested it this time. As Father announced the council's decision, I closed my eyes. Because I knew that was it. I was no longer a Lucian. I was nothing..."

*=*=*

Absently, I knew that Father was speaking. Likely just rounding out the meeting with a few closing notes and smarmy grins. Well, good on him, I thought bitterly. Now everyone knew for certain what a heartless tosser he really was-- although to some, that wasn't necessarily a _bad _thing. There was a rather unenthusiastic round of applause for whatever it was he'd said and I glanced up to see him staring at me, a malicious glint in his dark eyes.

"... Now, I wish you all a safe trip home," He concluded to everyone, but seemed to speak only to me.

I watched my mother cringe at his words and might have yelled a biting retort across the table, but it was then that an impossibly loud, wailing alarm tore through the building. Lucians who had been preparing to leave glanced at one another and began yelling. As I looked around, everyone seemed to begin speaking at once, though even that was drowned out by the siren. A few of the more astute ones were watching me with suspicion, so I began glancing about wildly, pretending to be just as confused as they were. I felt Father's gaze on me as I stood from my seat to stand among the members of the council already on their feet.

"Sit down. You're not going anywhere." he ordered, a nearly indiscernable note of uncertainty edging his voice.

I withheld a smirk, revelling in his loss of control. Slowly, I began navigating the sea of bodies, inching my way over to where I could see the dripping crack in the ceiling, all the while never leaving his sight.

"That's the fire alarm." I heard someone nearby say only a split second before the overhead sprinklers spurted to life.

Women shrieked as water sprayed down on their two thousand dollar business suits and I saw a few men reach instinctively for the concealed holsters at their belts. The noisy murmur of before picked up into a cacophony of panicked voices and accusations. Everyone suddenly seemed to be standing, hastily snatching up their belongings and hiding them from water damage while the majority stampeded for the only exit. Those who had preoccupied with me seemed to forget about their suspicions as soon as the water hit them and bolted for the door. Meanwhile, I hid in the chaos, hurriedly making my way to the spot beneath the armoury. I lost sight of Mother in the crowd, her look of confusion and panic mirroring just about everyone elses' before she disappeared. I couldn't see Father either, but I did hear him bellowing at the Lucians and trying to keep order when, suddenly, it happened.

There was this great, creaking groan from overhead followed by the heavy crunch of wood splintering. Water began spraying like a waterfall through the now-metre long crack in the ceiling, splattering across the boardroom table and those nearest to it. I watched the scene with a smile budding on my face as a second loud crash followed with more wood-splintering cracks and crunches from the second level. Someone in the crowd screamed, which brought about a symphony of yells and shoving as people pushed one another towards the exit. I couldn't really blame them; it truly sounded like the building was about to come down on us. And that was when a third violent crash finally split the ceiling. Down from above tumbled three cast-iron artillery cannons, smacking against one another with ear-splitting clangs and the sound of shattering tile, wood and concrete as they hit the floor. Water flowed down freely on top of them from the jagged, gaping hole in the ceiling where the floor of the armoury ought to have been. It began to flood the war room where now only me, my Father and a handful of stragglers remained.

"It was good seeing you again." I called to Father, arrogantly flashing him a grin as I raced towards the piled cannons and climbed on top. They were slick as the water continued to pulse down on them and I almost lost my footing as my fingers began searching through the streaming water for a rope that Amy was going to use to pull me up.

Glancing up through the hole in the ceiling, I could see a gigantic black water pipe that hung above the second floor, now split almost in two. Amy must've taken a pickaxe to it, slicing it up so that it would drench the supports beneath the floor and weaken them. Once that was done, it seemed she'd cut the support wires holding those titanic cannons above the armoury floor and they had crashed right through to the war room, creating a brand new exit for me.

"Amy! Rope!" I yelled up to her, my voice stifled easily by the siren and the roar of the water.

I heard a faint feminine cry in return as a steel cable began snaking down the column of water and straight into my awaiting hands. Hanging on for dear life, I clenched my knees around the wire and felt the jerking tug as Amy started to string me up to safety above. Water gushed down into my face and a spluttered trying to breathe. I couldn't see a thing and my arms were getting sore when something below me grabbed onto my leg. I coughed and began to struggle, kicking as hard as I could against it trying to break free. I knew it was probably Vikram, attempting to prevent my escape. My suspicions were confirmed a moment later:

"You're not going anywhere!" I heard him snarl faintly, digging his fingers into my ankle painfully.

My muscles burned as I flailed about, having to rely on my arms to keep me on that rope while my legs tried desperately to free me. My head was swimming from lack of oxygen and I couldn't even see what was happening, but I knew that I couldn't let go. I just couldn't give up like that! My shoulder brushed against something sharp and I felt Father's grip on me loosen and finally slip away. And suddenly, I was breathing again, the water pounding down harmlessly against my other shoulder. I spat and gasped for air as I swung my leg up onto the sunken pit that remained of the armoury floor and used the last of my strength to haul myself up. Soaked to the skin and in pain, I lay panting next to the hole, too tired to grin at the accomplishment.

"You made it! You actually made it!" I heard Amy cry, and turned to see her racing over to me from behind the pulley system she'd been using with the cable. Her arms were around me in a second, nearly choking me as she buried her face into the side of my neck breathing sighs of relief. I felt the flower, still in her hair, brush against my ear as she pulled away.

"Yeah... piece of cake." I said with a weak nod and I sat up.

"You're okay?" she asked, nervously looking me over for any injuries, "Everyone's okay?"

"They're fine... They evacuated... with the fire alarm." I reported between pants as I staggered to my feet.

I was exhausted, but this was far from the end. Together we raced past the bolted door that led to the upper level. Amy had had the sense to lock it after all the surveillance team in the next room had raced downstairs with the fire alarm. Already though, we could hear men pounding on it, their howls and screams seemingly muffled as they tried in vain to get through. It made me uneasy to see it, but ultimately it was a good sign that they hadn't broken it down yet.

"Come on!" she urged me with a frightened look back in my direction and I realized I'd been staring over my shoulder for too long.

The fire escape was located at the back of the building and led to a hidden service road below that was blocked from the front entrance by the conjoined buildings on either side. I ushered Amy onto it first, keeping the angry hoard threatening to break through the locked door at my back. I felt like we made so much noise as we clambered down the metal grate steps, but we didn't hear or see any sign of the Lucians until right as we hit the ground.

"_Je le vois_!" A shout from further down the service road caused Amy to freeze. I caught up to her from behind and grabbed her by the arm, practically yanking us both down the narrow street in the opposite direction as I broke into a run.

My injured foot immediately protested against the sudden movement and the weight I was putting on it-- not to mention those godawful cobblestones-- but I couldn't let it slow us down. I knew they weren't far behind us. Possibly thirty metres, maybe twenty-fine. And I knew from that one glance that there were three of them. Three big, brutish-looking thugs, all armed with semi-automatic weapons either strapped to their sides or carried in their hands. They were shouting at one another in French, their grunts echoing off the surrounding buildings as the chased after us.

"Look!" I heard Amy cry next to me in relief.

Up ahead, I saw the end of the service road and in the distance, the Arc de Triomphe: our salvation. It was two-thirty on a Saturday. If we could just make it there and cross that horribly ill-conceived roundabout, we could vanish into the afternoon crowds and disappear from sight! With that energizing thought, I pushed myself, ignoring the intense pain shooting up my leg and broke into the best sprint I could manage. Amy was right behind me as together we hurtled towards our exit, hell-bent on making it out of there alive. We _had_ to reach the end of the street. We_ had_ to!

"They're n-not firing!" She yelled to me.

"What?"

"They're not trying to kill us!"

"Not yet! Just run!"

I snuck a look back at the men behind us anyway and let out a whoop of joy as I realized that they were further back than I'd thought. And twenty feet was all that separated us from the road and our freedom. With a premature breath of relief, I felt my chest swelling with joy as I realized that we were going to make it. We had enough room between us to be able to lose them easily. We'd done it!

And that was when a shadow crossed our path.

Up ahead, someone had stalked into the alley and was making his way towards us. My heart almost died when I recognized this one from the night we escaped, probably because he was toting a Kalishnikov. Amy and I were close enough to see the snarl on his face and hear him mutter something in Russian when we stopped short. Beside me, she gasped as I started to move in front to block her from view. Her fingers wormed their way into my hand and clenched tightly as we stood there, hardly believing that this could be happening. Not far behind, I heard the footfalls of our pursuers growing closer and I knew before the Russian raised the gun to his sightline that it was over.

But after coming so close? How could this happen?!

Unbridled rage bubbled up inside of me. This wasn't right! After all we'd done and after everything we'd gone through to die in a back alley in the middle of Paris? And with everything we still had left to do? No, my father wasn't just going to win that way! I wasn't going to let that happen! Even if I had to die, I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of beating us!

"Let her go!" I yelled to him, my voice betraying my frustration, "It's _me _you want dead, right?"

"No," the man said with a heavy accent as he raised the gun to his sightline, "Both"

Behind us, the Frenchmen had caught up and we could hear the clicks of guns being cocked and aimed at us. Amy twisted around so that she was facing them, protecting me as I was her. Sweet as the gesture was, we both knew by then that there was no way out. Still, there we stood, back to back, facing our enemies with our hands clasped together vainly believing that something would save us. I could hear and feel her ragged breathing from the futile run. I probably should have offered her something comforting; it was our last minute together, after all. But somehow just couldn't accept it. Now wasn't my time! I had things left to do; a purpose to fulfill. And Amy... she was_ invincible_. No one could ever touch her.

"I-Ian," I heard her say to me in a voice choked with fright, "I-I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I-If I had--"

"Shh...," I answered softly with a squeeze of her hand, "Don't do that. No regrets, okay?"

"...N-No regrets." she repeated.

She hadn't even finished speaking before the Russian's gun exploded and I felt that slicing sting in my chest as it stole my breath. Like helpless dead weight, I felt myself falling backwards and heard Amy's skriek as I toppled against her. Try as she did to soften my fall, my head still connected with the ground with a sickening thud. I struggled, trying to fill my lungs and fighting the dark nothingness at the edges of my vision. The pain didn't even register until a few agonizing moments later and then it felt like my ribcage was being pried apart from the side. Amy's terrified face swam above as she knelt over me, speaking words I couldn't hear or respond to. Her soft, delicate fingers danced over my face and I fought the urge to close my eyes.

"Stay with me," I saw her mouth, "Ian, just stay--"

Her words were cut of by a sudden and deafening barrage of gunfire tearing through the still air. She screamed, her face falling forward to bury herself in my chest. My vision lurched again and I fought to keep my eyes open. I had to stay conscious! I had to stay awake! I couldn't leave her there. If only I could just get up, maybe I could punch out one of them and get her to safety. If only I could...I could...

It was my last conscious thought before I blacked out completely.

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	13. Chapter 13

A/N: In response to a couple inquiries, no, the last chapter was NOT the end of the story. Hence, the chapter I have for you today. This one is the second last, but I might add an epilogue depending on whether or not I can squeeze a satisfying ending into the last chapter... my guess is that there will be one.

Just an aside, the reference to 'handlers' is a term I shamelessly stole from the show Chuck (think more à la Casey than Sara, only because none of these guys would look as good in a skirt). Enjoy!

*=*=*

Chapter 13

*=*=*

**"What?! But... how?!"**

"How what?"

**"How did you survive? I don't understand."**

"Neither did I. And for a while afterwards, I wished I hadn't lived all..."

**"..."**

"..."

**"Augh! You aggravating whelp! You're not going to tell me how, are you!"**

"And ruin the suspense? Surely you know me better than that."

**"You must get some sadistic pleasure out of _torturing_ a dying woman like this."**

"Not_ nearly_ as much as you get complaining about it... I woke to the sun streaming in through the dusty blinds of a small, unfurnished bedroom. The weathered hardwood floors and gently-domed ceiling that stared back at me were of no help to my poor memory. Blinking in confusion, I tried desperately to figure out where I was and recall what had happened, because I was positive that I'd never seen this place in my life. How had I gotten here? What happened to me? Where was Amy? The more I thought, the more my brain hurt with the strain and I forced myself to lie back and take deep breaths. But there was one problem with that."

**"Oh. Your side?"**

"I didn't feel it at first. It was more like an irritating scrape that stung more than crippled me. Not until I lifted my hand to feel along my side did the pain really hit me. Someone had bandaged the wound for me and I could feel the cotton padding held in place by surgical tape, but that didn't help one whit. I've never felt anything so agonizing in my life and really don't recommend it; getting shot, even when the bullet misses all your vital organs, is a horrible experience."

**"Oh what a baby! It hit your _ribs_! Do you know what it's like to take one to the gut? Or the side of the neck? Now _that_'s frightening. "**

"No one cares about how many bullets you've taken. This is _my _story, remember?"

**"And if you weren't such a whiner, it'd be a better one."**

"I was pretty heroic, I'll have you know! Even with my chest slit open six inches beneath my armpit, I still hauled myself out of bed like a _man!_ I had to. Because the memories were flooding back and I started to realize the gravity of the situation I'd left behind. Amy's anguished face begging me stay with her as gunfire erupted around us flashed in my mind, seeming to both squeeze my heart with an icy hold and send my mind into a fiery, obsessive panic. I_ had_ to find her. I_ had_ to know she wasn't dead. I _had_ to know she was still out there waiting for me like I would for her. Because the thought that she might be gone made me not want to live anymore. "

**"..."**

"What? Are you...cr—?"

**"No! Don't be stupid!... Go on."**

"I found that I was in a small, two-story house that, despite having no furniture, was extremely cramped for space. At least I knew I was still in Paris. Frantically, I searched every last room to find it completely abandoned. Not only was there no trace of Amy, but there was no trace of anyone else either. As I hobbled down the last of the stairs, I felt blood beginning to seep through the bandage at my side. Cursing to myself, I pressed my fingers against it to keep pressure and reasoned that there'd be time to see a doctor once I was with Amy and Dan. Maybe I wasn't too late. I might still make the rendez-vous point if I hurried. Amy could have managed to get away like I had. Perhaps she was just fine and I was worrying over nothing."

**"...Ian, we were long gone by—"**

"I know, but at the time, it didn't occur to me that more than a few hours had passed. It especially didn't occur to me that I'd been asleep for three whole days. And in my blind optimism, I wandered outdoors, surprised but relieved to find the front door unlocked. I didn't recognize the _quartier _where I was immediately, but after limping a few blocks and drawing the attention of many curious pedestrians, I realized that I wasn't actually too far from where we were supposed to meet."

**"We waited as long as we could, you know that. But Lucians were crawling all over the city looking for you. Any one of them could have spotted—"**

"Again, I know. I'm _agreeing_ with you; keeping the clues safe should have been your priority."

**"Just understand that that decision to leave wasn't easy... for any of us."**

Yes. The rendez-vous location was a secluded alley behind a run-down pub. At my back, the sun was beginning to set by the time I reached the spot, casting long shadows across the walls and darkening the narrow street. I could feel a wet trickle of blood dripping through my fingers where I clutched my chest as I stumbled up, panting and groaning from the exertion. The entire way, my one driving belief had been that Amy would be there waiting for me. She'd never leave me behind; she'd never abandon me. And it literally brought me to my knees when I found it deserted and empty; just a few rubbish bins piled next to an over-flowing dumpster. I just collapsed against the wall, leaned my head back and let the pain and despair overtake me. You and Dan were gone, and Amy..."

**"When did you find out about her?"**

"As I rested there catching my breath, I noticed something resting on the pavement beside me—a rumpled orange flower. Reaching out, I grasped it with fumbling fingers, recognizing it as the tiger lily I'd given Amy. In spite of the pain, I couldn't help the grin that spread over my face or the tears that burned my weary eyes as I stared at that little lily. Amy was sending me a message. She was okay."

**"At least you knew _that _much. For the longest time, we assumed you were dead. Well, most of us that is... you really should have seen her."**

"Is that right?"

**"Amy was a woman possessed when we found her, determined to scour the entire country to find you. She never believed you were dead."**

"I wish I'd had a way to reach her, but you were in hiding and I was busy bleeding out in the dark with my last memento of her clutched in my hand. I don't recall passing out, but apparently I did because that was how Vincent found me."

**"Vincent?"**

"My handler. He was this great big Frenchman--shaved head, dark skinned and powerfully built with the most severe expression you'd ever see. His family was originally from somewhere in West Africa and they had immigrated when he was just a baby— although frankly, it was a little hard to imagine that man _ever_ having been small. Yet, his was the first face I saw when I woke and I just about had a panic attack right then."

**"Why?"**

"Because I recognized him; he was one of the men who'd chased us after the trial, cornered us in the service road and opened fire. Once more, I was lying on the bed in the same small room where I'd woken up before, only now _he_ was seated in a chair against the far wall watching me. Jerkily, I sat up, keeping my back against the headboard and snarled at him, demanding to know who he worked for and why he'd taken me here."

**"Well, _I_ certainly didn't hire him."**

"No, and I was quick to dismiss that idea. Not only did you prefer the company of Russians rather than the French, but if you had really _wanted_ us dead, I wouldn't still be breathing. But then, foolishly, I was assuming that the reason I was alive was because _someone_ was looking for information."

**"Ah! So you thought your father had sent him?"**

"Naturally, although even that was off because he too prefers Russians. It was a mystery. Vincent, though, was a man of few words. He ignored my questions and, in annoyed-sounding French, told me to lie down before I passed out again. I staunchly refused, scowling at him as I defiantly swung my legs over the side of the bed. I had things to do. It wasn't the wisest idea because immediately my chest and head screamed in overwhelming pain at the movement. Gritting my teeth and digging my nails into my palms, I managed to stand on shaky legs for one victorious moment before they promptly gave out and I collapsed backwards onto the bed. Vincent eyed me from his chair with what I suspected was an amused look as I sat there, gasping for breath and glaring resentfully at him."

**"What did he want from you?"**

"He wanted to hand me a package, as per his instructions to do so. He informed me in his brusque manner that he and his men had been contracted as my personal protection for one week. After which, if I could no longer afford to pay them, they were free to go."

**"Your protection?"**

"Bodyguards, handlers, security personnel—whichever you prefer. I spat at him that I didn't_ need_ his protection and he could piss off right now if he wanted to. Something in his eyes hardened, but he said nothing and didn't move from his spot as we lapsed into an angry silence. A while later, a physician arrived to check on how my bullet wound was healing. He removed the bandage, cleaned around the stitches and re-applied a fresh one. I'd also suffered a concussion— which was the reason I'd blacked out—but I would be able to walk in a couple of days."

**"Well, I should hope your protection stuck around longer than a week. They were the reason you got shot in the first place!"**

"Technically, none of them had pulled the trigger. Back in the alley, they had only chased me to capture me, never to kill me. They hadn't even been aiming at me when they started firing; those bullets were meant to take out the Russian threat to my life. When I asked what had happened to _him_, Vincent shrugged and said vaguely that the situation had resolved itself. I took that as code to mean he was dead and rotting somewhere."

**"Yes, Amy told us they shot him before kidnapping you. Not that she let them take you so easily..."**

"I know. She gave Jean—another member of my protection squad—a split lip fighting to defend me. I wish I'd been conscious to see that, because I really can't imagine what it was like for her; watching them load me into a van and drive off. Anyone would have thought they were abducting me for questioning and torture. Not even_ I_ would have guessed that they were trying to save my life..."

**"It's a mercy they didn't kill her!"**

"Not really. She wasn't a threat to me or them; they had no reason to. See, they're not bad people—I may not have _liked_ everyone, but I honestly couldn't see them shooting an unarmed teenage girl."

**"I suppose you did get to know them."**

"Hard to avoid it, really. There were three in the rotation: Vincent, Jean and Mathieu-Félix. Jean was another big, disagreeable chap, but unlike Vincent, he was always grimy-looking with a perpetual five o'clock shadow no matter how many times a day he shaved. Mathieu-Félix was all right, although he was pale, blond and overly pretty, in my opinion, for a hired thug. I was never without at least one of them hovering over me during the two days it took to recover. All the while, no one would tell me who it was they were working for and the mystery began to plague me. It could have been anyone from any branch of our back-stabbing family. But who? Another Lucian? A Janus? The Tomas were too hot-headed to have resisted torturing me by now... But the Ekats? The more I thought, the more I yearned to know what was in that package for me."

**"Did you run out of time?"**

"Pretty damn nearly. I supposed whoever had hired the tossers hadn't counted on me almost getting my nipples blown off and needing time to heal. But, two days and a number of pulled stitches later, Vincent finally handed over a brown parcel wrapped in twine."

**"What was in it?"**

"Ten thousand euro in cash, a typed note with an address on it and a Boston Bruins baseball cap."

**"... huh?"**

"My thoughts exactly. I failed to recognize the logo on the cap. I think I mistook it for a stupid American baseball team (Amy informed me it's not, but truly I've never seen the appeal of ice hockey either) and, having no patience for such insipid sports, I instead turned my attention to the unsigned note:

_32 rue Cambon_

_Bonne Chance!_

"I frowned and eyed the hat in my hand dubiously. Maybe I was supposed to wear it as an identifier when I went to meet whoever this anonymous benefactor was. But what about that '_Bonne Chance_!' remark? It somehow seemed a bit uppity to wish me 'good luck' in light of everything that had happened. In the end, I resolved that I might as well take the bait and go pay whoever it was a visit. They didn't seem to want to kill me and they'd just given me ten thousand euro; it struck me as strangely impolite to refuse."

**"Where was it?"**

"Euronext: the Parisian Stock Exchange. I stood before it, staring in trepidation at the sign above before I reluctantly-- and with more than a little humiliation-- donned my new hat and made my way inside. Greeting me was a hive of activity similar enough to the London Stock Exchange, with which I'd already had ample experience. Men in suits chatted on blackberries, some scribbling furiously on notepads while brokers took down stock points for clients and shouted into headsets. No one paid any attention to my entrance and it didn't appear as though anyone was waiting for me. Unconsciously, my fingers touched the money I kept wrapped in its original brown package beneath my arm as I stared up at the numbers and stock symbols rolling by. What now? They wanted me to invest in something, did they?"

**"Why would they want that?"**

"I wondered about that at first, but then I recalled what Vincent had told me earlier: if I could no longer afford to pay them, they would be free to go. I eyed Jean, my handler for the day, as he sniffed obnoxiously, rubbing a hand under his nose and ogling the millionaires around us with a pickpocket's eye. Yeah, that would be a loss all right. Still, I couldn't help feeling like someone out there was trying to challenge me. It left me torn between refusing to play their sick little game and beating the hell out of it just to rub it in their face... You can probably guess which one I chose."

**"The fool-hardy one?"**

"Naturally. I did my best to observe, watching the stock ticker unblinkingly through the swarm of businessmen until little green and red arrows were burned into my retinas. Eventually, I requested a stock list and began going through an electronic copy of every company listed one by one, looking for anything that was remotely related to Boston. Nothing popped up immediately and there were simply tons of stocks to sift through. Funnily enough, I came across Sysco Developers, the company my mother had mentioned was about to go bankrupt because of my father. I snorted and moved on; that certainly wouldn't be one I'd invest in. It wasn't until I also saw the name Cortex Engineering that everything suddenly fell together. Madly, I ripped the hat off my head and groaned."

**"Wait! Hold on. I'm confused..."**

"There was a bloody _bear_ on the front. See, when a stock is expected to do well, people invest money in it and call it a 'bull market.' If the stock goes up, they make money."

**"Yes, I know that. What does this have to do with bears?"**

"But, if you believe a stock is about to drop in value, like I _knew_ for certain Sysco and Cortex were about to do, you can bet _against_ it. If it goes down, you profit. That's called shorting a stock and it happens in '_bear _markets.' The hat was telling me that I had to short those two stocks."

**"Then you mean... the person who sent those men to abduct and protect you was..."**

"Isabel."

**"But... she disowned you! Why would she help you at all?"**

"She _had_ to disown me; Father and I both forced her hand. But she'd anticipated that and had devised her own scheme to keep me safe. I'm amazed at just how calculated her strategy was and it shamed me to think that while I was busy yelling at her back in London, she was handing me the keys to my own survival. Of course, Mother couldn't risk paying Vincent and his men openly without Father catching on, but she could give me the means to do so myself. And I hadn't disappointed her..."

**"How much did shorting the stocks get you?"**

"Enough to keep all three men around for a while. I'd decided to try it; if nothing else, they were a reminder that my mother was still watching over me. And that considerably lessened the loneliness I felt those first few months. Now, I'm not naïve enough to believe that my handlers alone were what kept me safe. Given his resources, my father could have easily sent a small battalion of thugs with Uzis to my front door and those three wouldn't have mattered a tick, but the fact that he'd refrained was a testament to my mother's influence. I could guess it was what she'd requested from Vikram in return for disowning me; that I be left in peace. Still, I had little doubt that he was monitoring my activities to see if I came in contact with the Cahills. Irritating though it was to know I was being watched, at least I could see his plan and that was a very bittersweet relief."

**"She came through for us, even if she never knew it."**

"She does now. But at the time, she might have picked a different set of thugs. The four of us got on all right eventually, but in the beginning there were a few rather nasty squabbles about what exactly constituted personal hygiene and how much work I expected them to do for me. Jean especially got on my nerves. He began calling me _le petit prince_ over my so-called '_snobisme_' until the nickname stuck. I thought it was a reference to the title character of de Saint Exupéry's novel or had to do with how much more civilized I was in comparison to them."

**"It wasn't?"**

"No, but I'll come to that later. My priority by then was to get word to Amy that I was safe and to keep her from looking for me. Our positions were extremely precarious, but for the time being, we seemed to have found safe ground. I didn't want to upset that by meeting while I was being so carefully watched. But how was I supposed to contact her without raising any red flags? My email was hacked and your private one was shut down, making any digital communication risky. I had to come up with something."

**"It was moronic!"**

"Really? You think so?"

**"You don't?!"**

"It got the job done, what more could I ask? I wasn't sure if he was monitoring all Lucian e-mails for anything from me, so I decided to go with a bold approach. After copying the addresses of every single high-ranking Lucian from my mother's account—you included, of course—I sent a nice big forward from my own declaring my survival and wishing Father a cheeky 'better luck next time.' I didn't really care to taunt them, but it let you and my mother both know that I was alive, which was more to the point."

**"No. You deliberately_ provoked_ him! Do you know what he might have done to you?"**

"Calm down! There was a bit of a backlash, but to tell the truth, I wasn't really aware of many of his assassination efforts. And for the longest while, that disappointed me. Not that I had any particular inclination to watch violent bloodshed on my behalf, but I somehow felt that I no longer mattered to my father; that I wasn't a threat anymore. And that hurt my pride. I had undermined his espionage activities, run away from home, nearly blinded him and blown a hole in the Lucian stronghold, and he was just going to let me go?!"

**"You idiot! You got away! Don't you_ dare_ complain!"**

"Oh, I didn't get away with anything. Vincent, Jean and Mathieu-Félix were just very skilled at hiding it. It had been three months without any communiqué with Amy and I was going a bit stir crazy. Even knowing she'd escaped didn't lessen the worry that ate at me—and I had plenty of time to stress over it, having nothing to do all day but read books and obsess over my stocks. It occurred to me that even if something had happened to her, I'd never know and that thought kept me up at night. It was possibly why I was awake one evening in October when I heard a scuffle outside my window."

**"Ian, do you really need to tell me about—"**

"What? How I stumbled upon my handler beating the stupid out of one of Father's henchmen? Fine, maybe not, but I never again felt that childish disappointment over not receiving any attention from Vikram. How could I? Vincent killed that man because of everything I'd done and I had paid him to do it. It was... _sobering_, to say the least."

**"Well, at least you smartened up."**

"That, I assure you, will never happen... After that night, I insisted that we stay on the move, rotating residences every few weeks—sometimes returning to old ones but often only finding new locations to live. It was ghastly expensive and I had to keep cashing in my investments to do so, but I hated the idea of more bodies piling up; my conscience weighed heavily enough. After a few months, our followers turned from assassins to harmless spies once more and it seemed that my father's wrath had been squelched at least temporarily. In that quiet lull, I decided that I wanted to attend school—even if it had to be a French school. I hadn't been in over six months and while I hadn't exactly missed it, I was bored out of my skull acting as a shut-in. It turned into a stormy, epic argument between me and Vincent who warned me it was a foolish risk. "

**"Dear God! I can't imagine being on your security detail. I think I might have just let you get yourself killed and be done with it!"**

"Now there's a comfort. I won, suffice to say, and enrolled in December at _Lycée Jeanne d'Arc _but the experience really doesn't bear mentioning except to say; firstly, just how sadistic the French school system is (having been intentionally designed to make _anyone_ feel like a failure in life) and secondly, that it was the only way I could communicate with you."

**"But even that was dangerous. Your Father was still watching you closely."**

"Which was why we needed to be discreet. A few days before Christmas, I was summoned from class--ironically still bored at the time--and handed an envelope at the administrative desk. Some young lady had just dropped it off for me with the request that it be delivered immediately. I tore into it the second I was out of sight of anyone besides Mathieu-Félix—my shadow for the day—knowing it must be from Amy. But I was a more than a little dismayed at both how little the message contained and its signatory:

_I'm sorry things are progressing slowly._

_It still looks like it is going to be a while __before we see one another again, but __hang in there and keep your ear to the ground._

_Love, Ida_

**"You knew it was from us."**

"Yes, I knew Amy's tidy penmanship anywhere, but the name she used threw me. I'd seen her sign her e-mails to you with 'Ida'—an acronym for 'Ian, Dan and Amy'. Now, I supposed that 'I' stood for Irina and the thought both annoyed and frustrated me. Not only had _you_ taken that active, in-control position that was rightfully mine, but it felt like I'd now become a liability in this arrangement."

**"Yes, well... you were."**

"Thanks, old Mum. You always know _just_ what to say."

**"No, not that. You were a liability because of what you meant to Amy."**

"I was?"

**"She refused to leave Paris once we found you; probably felt that we would be abandoning you. And it was impossible to convince her that you were going to be safe where you were."**

"But you did eventually?--convince her, that is."

**"Through great pains, but yes. We helped her realize that contacting you again might very well result in your death, which was what ultimately pushed her to leave."**

"And that's why I never got another note?"

**"It simply wasn't worth the risk."**

"My, that's almost _touching_... in a cold, completely inhuman way, I mean. But in any event, life went on and, miserably enough, so did school. All three of my bodyguards, who were well into their thirties, disliked attending classes with me; Vincent found it degrading, Jean was as bored as I was and Mathieu-Félix was forever crabby because they didn't allow him to smoke on the premises. Christmas and the New Year were uneventful, which left me with plenty of time by myself to brood. When I wasn't wondering about Amy and her message, I'd sometimes envision what my family must be doing without me. Mother loved to spend the holidays in Fiji, although Natalie would always complain about the sun drying out her skin and refuse to go outside, and inevitably Father would get called away on business. I wondered if they'd gone after everything that had happened this year."

**"A little homesick, hmm?"**

"Not really. I missed Mother and Fiji; not so much Natalie's whining or Vikram._ Especially_ not Vikram... January and February were long, wet months, but by the end of March, there was a palpable lightness in the air with the long-anticipated signs of spring. At the time, we had a nice, expensive flat with a sunset view of the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysées, which was quite lovely in the evenings. But with the changing of the seasons, I could feel the tireless march of time. Over the past seven months, I'd grown taller, leaner, my bullet wound had healed over with a long scar and I'd even started to shave. Now, April was upon us and, with it, a dark shadow was looming over my life."

**"A shadow?"**

"My birthday. Early that month, I turned seventeen. In celebration, Jean bought a cupcake from a bakery down the street and, since we didn't have any candles, Mathieu-Félix lit one of his cigarettes and stuck it in the icing. It was the sorriest, most disgusting-looking birthday cake I'd ever seen and even sorrier to think about what it stood for. In another life I might have been rejoicing with family and friends, but instead I was busy contemplating my fate and wishing I was sixteen once again. Because, all the while, time was running out for me."

**"Ah..."**

"In one year, I would turn eighteen and become a legal adult. If you hadn't taken over the council by then, I could never be adopted as a Lucian. I could never become your successor. And the future of Orion would be forever left in the Council's bloodthirsty hands..."

*=*=*


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Here is where I beg forgiveness for taking so long to update. I'm sorry for that, really I am. I wasn't pleased with the first draft (hated it in fact) and the last three weeks, which were supposed to have been spent editing the bejeezus out of this thing, were unexpectedly crazy. Those of you who have been with me since the beginning of Morbid Curiosity (or have given the authors notes a quick skim) can probably guess that nothing ever goes according to my original plan. Heck, I said I'd wrap this up in two chapters and here we are at number fourteen! All of this to say that I _meant_ this to be the finale.

But it's not.

Instead, I sat down at my bug-ridden computer, began to type and before I knew it, I was up to thirteen pages without even having touched on half of what I meant to. Oops! I'm not even going to bother telling you the next one is the real finale, because, in all honesty, it might not be! But what I have for you _today_ will hopefully make up for the long wait and the lack of IanxAmy in the last chapter—since that's pretty much _all_ this is.

*=*=*

Chapter 14

*=*=*

"And then I was betrayed."

**"Oh would you stop it!"**

"Hung out to dry—"

**"Enough!"**

"And left to twist in the wind by the only people I trusted—"

**"It's been six years! Let it go!"**

"_Let it go_? You bent my girlfriend and her brother's will against me to keep the title of Lucian branch leader longer than your allotted eight years—and you want me to just let that go? Sorry, Judas, some things are just a little too hard to forget."

**"Like locking someone inside a bat cave?"**

"What can I say? I've never seen the sense in forgiveness the way Amy has. Not when vengeance is so much easier..."

**"... It's beliefs like_ that_ that make me worry about you."**

"What? That I'll become as cold, inhuman and twisted as Vikram? You can say it; everyone already thinks it anyway. And actually, I rather like that. See, every time I cock up or do anything immoral, people bandy about the word 'genetics' like it's some debilitating disease and everything's suddenly not my fault. Fantastic system, no...? Ah but, I suppose you want me to finish up the story?"

**"Please. I'm having trouble grasping _why_ Amy puts up with this."**

"Hn... You'd better make a point to ask_ her_ then before you keel over. I can't answer that. But I _can_ tell you what happened the day you nearly tore the two of us apart with your under-handed scheming and villainy..."

*=*=*

_It was the last day I attended school in Paris—and a memorable one at that. I was poking disinterestedly at my lunch in the dining hall. Having refused to deign to eat the meals the school provided, I would usually order something from the deli across the street, but even that wasn't particularly appetizing. At my side, Mathieu-Félix was on guard, twitching irritably and fingering the packet of cigarettes in his pocket. He got like this occasionally whenever nicotine withdrawal really kicked in and the result was never pretty._

_And so, frankly, it was of little surprise when he happened to grab a tall, gangly boy that accidentally brushed by my knee and proceeded to ram the kid's face into the table. His scrawny shoulder crushed my meatball sandwich and sent sauce splattering everywhere._

_"What the hell?! Let me go!" I heard him cry out as I stood up trying to wipe the meat sauce off my tie and crisp white shirt with a napkin. Ignoring his pleas, I eyed the garment in dismay and annoyance, thinking about how I'd have to send it to the cleaners once again..._

_"Speak French, you stupid shit!" the handler growled in the boy's ear._

_It wasn't until I heard Mathieu-Félix say that that I realized he had indeed been speaking English. The poor boy twisted underneath my bodyguard's grip, his arms flailing about before his head finally turned my way and I caught a good look of his face. Eyes wide in confusion and terror, I recognized him._

_Dan Cahill._

_"Let him up," I barked in French, trying to avoid instinctively scoping out the cameras in the room. Father was watching; I couldn't afford to arouse any sort of suspicion. And the rational thing, I decided, would be to berate Mathieu-Félix: "For God's sake! You ruined my shirt for nothing, you useless twat! And really! Does he look like a threat to you?"_

_I didn't hear what the man said in response; I was too focused on Dan. He'd grown about a foot in the last year and now towered over me, although his limbs still looked like they were made of twigs. His hair had lightened to a near-blond and I'd noticed how his voice had cracked when he'd yelped. Puberty clearly wasn't being kind to him. Dan had to be Natalie's age now—fourteen, if I wasn't mistaken—though he looked much older than I remembered my sister to be. _

_And the ninny was now mouthing something secretive to me behind Mathieu-Félix's back._

Perfect.

_"Go get me another meatball sandwich," I snapped at my protector, watching the look of disgust and fury ripple across his features at my order. I didn't care how much of an arse I was being; I wanted to talk to Dan alone, "And do try not to beat up anybody on the way there."_

_"Are you serious—?"_

_"A bottle of water too."_

_"Screw off! I'm not your servant!" He scowled at me, refusing to take the hint. I could tell I'd confused and frustrated him by acting this way, but I couldn't allow him to hear this conversation. I didn't trust him enough._

_"I'll be fine for five minutes," I said, lowering my voice so that only the two of us could hear, "Just go!"_

_Mathieu-Félix eyed Dan warily before sliding his gaze back to me in a look that could have peeled paint. I couldn't even guess if he was actually going to do as I asked when he muscled past me, snarling in a low tone that I had four minutes. I didn't question it. I wasn't even listening again, my mind too caught up in one obsessive idea:_

They had news.

_"Bathroom. Now."_

_They were the only words Dan squeaked out before turning around and disappearing back into the hoard of students, pulling up the hood of his jumper as he did to hide his identity from any surveillance cameras. It seemed almost sad to think that he'd gained some sense over the past year, but I didn't have time to consider that. _

_As casually as I could, I made a show of disgust over my soiled shirt and, armed with a fistful of napkins, I headed towards the gents room on the first floor. I could feel myself nearly dizzy in anticipation of what might be waiting for me as I walked. Maybe they'd done it and we'd be ready to go to the Lucian Council with the 39 clues. This endless waiting would be at an end. I'd finally have my freedom._

_But then, what about Amy?_

_I'd like to say I was perfectly secure about how I felt and about how she felt about continuing our... whatever-it-was... but that was depressingly far from the truth. We'd dated for less than eight hours over a year ago—it was almost ludicrous to suppose that she _hadn't_ moved on by now. And, call it petty, but if she didn't want to be together anymore, I wanted to be the one to end it. At least then I'd be able to salvage what was left of my dignity. __As I pushed open the doors to the loo, I realized that, even though I knew this was coming, I hadn't been prepared to see her again._

_But there she was._

_"H-Hi, Ian," Amy greeted me with a shy, nervous smile, one hand hidden behind her back while the other pushed the hair away from her face._

_I stared at her for a long moment, stunned beyond words and probably unnerving her to some degree with my silence. I had spent an entire year imagining just what I would say to her once we met again, what I would tell her, how I would say it. But none of that came to mind. Actually, the only thing that did was—_

_"You're in the men's room."_

_I cringed as the words left my mouth, knowing just how out-of-place they sounded. But it worked. The awkward ice between us was broken and Amy grinned at me in a way that just about stopped my heart._

_"Yeah," she said, her voice choking with tears._

_In a second, she was in my arms, half-crying and half-laughing my name into my shoulder and clinging to me as though terrified that if she did let go, I'd vanish before her eyes. I buried my nose in her hair and tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. How had I underestimated just how much this was going to affect me? I don't know which one of us was shaking or even how long I stood there holding her, but I really didn't care. I had Amy back; what else mattered?_

_Apparently, a lot._

_"We have to go," she whispered, her breath tickling my neck as she spoke, "We don't have much time."_

_"Sure," I agreed, speaking before what she said had really sunken in, "Hold on... where? Why? You want _me_ to come?"_

_Amy pulled away slowly, her hands seeming almost reluctant to let me go. But something about her was... wrong. She couldn't look me in the eyes, her fingers seemed fidgety and there was something just so pained about her expression that alarm bells began ringing. I could feel my heartbeat race and my face flush before she'd even said anything._

_"I'm s-sorry, Ian," she stuttered, her lower lip quivering. "I'm so sorry. We tried, but it's impossible! We just... we couldn't—"_

_"You couldn't do what?" I asked, my voice acquiring an involuntary sharpness._

_Amy flinched. I knew my tone had intimidated her, but I was incapable of keeping my emotions in check. Not after everything I'd been through, the risks I'd taken and everything I'd given up. And to have all that sacrifice amount to nothing..._

_It felt like I'd gone numb, inside and out._

_"We couldn't raise the money," she whispered, her tearful gaze pleading with me for understanding as her fingers dug into the collar of my shirt, trying to pull me to her and regain our closeness._

_I didn't budge._

_"You've had a year," I remarked in the same steel-edged voice._

_"What? Y-You think we haven't tried?!" she gawked at me incredulously, her hands falling away to her sides, "We've amassed more money and investors than I've ever seen in my life. It's just not enough! No! It's barely a dent in what we need to buy that kind of loyalty from those-those..._ crooks _in the Lucian Council!"_

_"And you have another year." I snapped coldly, dismissive of her concerns, "Make it count."_

_She fell silent, gaping at me in shock that I would so say something so unfeeling. In the back of my mind, I had some vague notion that I was being unreasonable, but I was too upset and furious to acknowledge it. Who was _she_ to do this to me? I was the goddamn Lucian heir! How dare she deny me my birthright? And how dare she renege her half of the bargain?_

_"Stop it!" Amy cried, "Stop being like that! It isn't you!"_

_"And you would know _exactly_ who I am," I sneered at her, hearing my voice beginning to rise in anger, "You, who left me here to rot for more than a year now—!"_

_"Ian! Stop it, please—!"_

_"No! You abandoned me!" I yelled, almost taking pleasure in watching her retreat a few steps from me, "And I allowed it because I thought we were in this together! But it seems I was mistaken..."_

_"We didn't have a choice!" she shouted right back matching me fire for fire, "We w-would have taken you if we could, b-but it was impossible! You know that!"_

_"Right, just like it's impossible for you to hold up your end of the bargain now! Isn't that convenient?" I snarled, "Forget about my future, so long as it doesn't interfere with any of your plans—that's easy for you three, isn't it?"_

_"That's our future—you _and_ I!"_

_Amy was smouldering, but it was _what_ she said that really hit me. I don't know how I could possibly have thought I'd be able to stand before her and not feel anything. And now, to hear her say she wanted a future with me... I defy anyone who says they could be indifferent to that. Still, I sighed in aggravation and rubbed my neck, reluctant to let go of my ire. I was just so galled they'd given up on this so easily! It wasn't fair! It wasn't right!_

_"You still want that?" I asked her edgily._

_I felt I would die inside if she told me no; Amy was absolutely everything to me. But pride and frustration were barring me from revealing just how insecure I was about our... whatever-this-was..._

_But Amy just shook her head._

_"Y–You idiot..." she muttered with half-hearted exasperation as a relieved smile wormed its way onto her lips, "You really need to ask me that?"_

_I smirked, feeling relief surging through me, "You really need to avoid answering it?"_

_She was rolling her eyes as I leaned in to kiss her. It was really like coming home again, feeling the crushing weight of the world melt into nothingness as it did whenever I was with her. The light in her eyes and the way she smiled at me seemed more important than any of it. Just by proximity I was a better person, the world was at peace, and nothing else really mattered._

_I have a knack for ruining moments like that..._

_"So, love, are you planning to tell me why you betrayed my end of the deal?"_

_Amy groaned and shot me a look, cuffing me playfully on the side of the head as she wiggled out of my grasp—no doubt in an effort to punish me for my insensitivity._

_"Unbelievable!"_

_"What? What's wrong with asking—?"_

_"You're _such_ a jerk!" she accused, fighting a grin._

_But she did explain. Over the past year, they'd tried to recruit manufacturers and investors in secret so as to avoid drawing Vikram's attention or revealing Spasky's position. But this was problematic in itself. Without publicity, we could never hope to profit from Orion the way it would once it hit the open market. And without that money to bribe members of the Lucian Council, they would never secure enough votes to elect Spasky as Branch Leader and me as her heir. They had been stymied and our plight was going nowhere._

_"The question is; where do we go from here?" Amy mused as her fingers fidgeted restlessly with the jade necklace at her throat._

_She'd returned to sitting on the counter by the sink as she'd spoken while I stood leaning against the door next to it to maintain our privacy. I noticed that she kept worrying her bottom lip._

_I blew out a frazzled breath as I thought it through, "Well... assuming Spasky isn't just doing this to extend her time as Branch Leader—and I still think she might be—I suppose she wants to regroup, right? Maybe she thinks I can be of help scraping what we need together."_

_"No, that's not it," she said softly, dropping her gaze to the floor, "She-She's been talking about adopting Dan to give us four years to work with."_

_"Is she mad?!"_

_Amy lifted her head and said quietly: "Believe me, I know. And I don't like it either... It's why we still haven't told him yet."_

_"Dan! A Lucian!" I spat the words as though they had a vile taste. I didn't even realize I'd started to pace as I continued to rant, "And the Lucian Branch leader, no less! That _moron_—running a veritable empire! No, no, that's... that's ridiculous! Utterly—!"_

_"Yes, I know. You don't need to insult him like that," She interrupted, shooting me a warning look._

_"Sorry," I offered half-heartedly, remembering just who I was talking to, "It's not even really about Dan, it's..." I was struggling to admit this even under Amy's understanding gaze, "It's that being the Branch Leader is—was my birthright. To have it handed to someone else because of something so trivial..."_

_"That's only if we're lucky," Amy added grimly, "I honestly don't think we could raise any amount that your father couldn't outbid with his massive fortune. I think... I think we were outmatched before we ever began..."_

_She looked so defeated, sitting there with her head in her hands and watching me with this harried, hopeless expression. I hadn't noticed until then just how thin and pale she'd become, the semi-permanent bags beneath her lovely eyes or the worried, restless twitch in her hands. A swell of protectiveness and blameless anger on her behalf hit me at seeing the toll this conspiracy had taken on her. She shouldn't be this miserable and stressed; not when she deserved so much better._

_"We can do something," I promised her reassuringly, "We will."_

_A sad smile danced across her face and she straightened up, "No, actually, I don't think there's anything we can do to stop him. But... but that doesn't mean it has to be like this for us."_

_"What do you mean—?"_

_I was cut off by a harsh pounding at the bathroom door that jarred me through my back. Pushing away from it, I scowled at the interruption and was about to tell them in not-so-polite French to bugger off when, on the other side, I heard Dan's frantic shouts:_

_"Amy! Amy, we've gotta move! Now!"_

_I watched as her eyes narrowed and she checked the time, "They're not supposed to be here this soon."_

_"Who's 'they'?" I asked eying the door with trepidation._

_Amy had jumped down from her perch._

_"Our Lucian tail. Vikram's men," she explained lowering her voice and putting her ear to the door. It was bizarre, but in that moment, she seemed so much older than her sixteen years. Much like Dan, her movements as she checked her watch again and rapped on the wood seemed almost practiced, as though she'd been doing this very thing for years._

_Well,_ a_ year, maybe._

_"We don't have a lot of time," Amy reported, her speech somewhat hurried as her gaze flickered anxiously between me and our only exit. There was a certain eagerness about her that had me worried, "But what I'm getting at is that we have one more option, Ian."_

_"And that would be?"_

_"We run," she said with the utmost determination, "We run, we destroy the clues, and we never look back."_

_I wasn't sure I'd heard her correctly the first time. It felt a little like my ears had been stuffed with cotton and I'd been hit with a stun gun for all that I was absorbing any of this. It didn't even feel real, apart from the nauseous turn my stomach took as it dawned on me that she was serious. I must've actually looked a little sick too because Amy was quick to ask me if I was all right._

_I was about as far from 'all right' as it was possible to be._

_"Yeah, I just..." I lied, unsure of how exactly to tell her this, "It's kind of sudden, don't you think?"_

_"What's the point in wasting any more time?" Amy asked me logically as she slipped her hand into mine with a squeeze. She looked nervous, but I could see that inextinguishable spark of hope in her eyes that never failed to appear whenever a brilliant idea had taken hold. It made me feel bloody wretched, "We have to go now."_

_"Wait, uh—"_

_But she had already thrown open the door and was racing down the hallway with me in tow. Her hair was whipping in my face and I stumbled behind her, only vaguely aware of the footfalls echoing from behind. Chancing a glance behind us, I caught sight of two men dressed in suits hurrying down the corridor after us. Both were more than likely armed, but neither had pulled their gun, not particularly keen to deal with the messy business of civilian panic and casualties. And it seemed like there were quite of few people milling about too, judging by the startled whispers and eyes that followed us. Another time, I might have been terrified, running for my life on pure adrenaline, but after what Amy had proposed, it was hard to feel anything besides the knot that had settled in my belly._

_"We're almost there!" she hissed at me excitedly, seeming to know the layout of the school surprisingly well._

_"And where exactly is 'there'?"_

_"You'll see!"_

_I had a sinking feeling that she'd taken my assent to run away from these goons as an agreement to run from this ordeal entirely. I wanted to raise that point—really I did—but with our imminent deaths looming, it just didn't seem like the proper time..._

_She was heading for the back exit across from the parking lot reserved for smokers. This backed onto a grassy embankment that led down to a crowded pedestrian street below. We sprinted down the hill at top speed, all the while stumbling across bodies strewn about the grass. I thank God for inventing smokers because the lot of them lounging there and cursing us probably prevented the men from drawing their weapons right away._

_"Left up here," Amy cried pulling ahead once again to lead the way._

_My feet hit the pavement hard as we came off the slope and my knees just about buckled under me. Amy stopped short, nearly yanking my arm off as she tugged me onwards. It was about then that I heard the first gunshot ring out and panicked screams and shouts ensued. It turned out to be a fatal mistake for our pursuers. What under normal circumstances would have qualified as an extremely bad sign for us became great fortune because people around us started to stampede. Every one of them was pushing, shoving and yelling in a desperate effort to get away from the lunatic with the gun. Pedestrians jostled past us in an ever-surging sea of bodies, dragging us farther and farther away from our assailants with every passing instant. And all Amy and I needed to do was to cling to one another and allow ourselves to be swept along in the wave._

_I heard her laughing next to me and caught her glancing over her shoulder at the hapless idiot who had discharged his gun. He looked to be swearing and spitting something to his colleague as sirens cried in the distance, but neither looked eager to pursue us. A moment later, I watched the two of them retreat up the embankment back in the direction we had come from._

_"Ian!" I felt Amy squeeze my arm again and gestured over towards an old church on the right side of the street. It was far from inconspicuous—the run-down walls and the steepled roof and bell tower that loomed over every other building on the street made that impossible. But Amy was already fitting the keys into the lock of the huge oak door, and I came to the hurried conclusion that it was better than remaining in the open._

_Almost the instant we ducked in, I began coughing on the stale air while she went about sliding the deadbolts and locking us inside. I honestly didn't think they'd bother returning for us, but it never hurt to be a little paranoid. It was the only way any of us were still alive at this point. _

_"I think we lost them," she announced, slipping over to the only window that faced the street and scouting for anyone else who might have followed._

_We were in a chapel, if the aged wood and the stained glass windows were anything to go by. A very disused one at that with a frightening amount of dust that coated every surface and drapery around and probably would have made Dan's asthma unbearable. The wooden floorboards, at one time arranged in an ornate pattern, had now been wrenched up and riddled with worm-holes over the years. It was almost too dark to see and Amy had to take me by the hand and lead me onwards. Together we wandered deeper into the main chamber, coming across rows and rows of pews before an altar and a gigantic pipe organ on the second level. Something darted out in front of us and I started, but Amy just laughed, assuring me that it was only a rat._

_I had trouble seeing the comfort in that thought._

_"Why are we here?" I asked her, trying hard not to reveal my utter disgust at their chosen hideout._

_Even in the dim light from the windows, I could still see the wistful smile that graced her face, "Welcome to our base of operations in Paris! The place is Lucian-owned, so we don't spend much time here, but thankfully most have forgotten it even exists. Except for Irina, of course."_

_"Is she here?"_

_"No. She and Dan should be arriving soon though," She answered after a moment, a note of displeasure in her tone. I gathered I was not the only one who had difficulty working with the slippery Russian, "Now, we don't have much time to plan our escape, but I was thinking—"_

_"Hold on," I interrupted her almost sheepishly, "About that..."_

_It's harder than you'd think; telling the one person in the world who trusts you unconditionally that you're not going to take the chance to be with them. It was certainly hard for me to get out, but I knew I couldn't afford to remain quiet on the subject anymore. I'll hand it to her, she took it well and put on a convincing veneer of rationality; asking me why I felt that way and what I had planned. But Amy's never been one to bottle anything up and it wasn't long before her she was wearing her heart on her sleeve again._

_"I-I just..." she bit her lower lip and looked away from me, "I guess I just don't understand what you think we can accomplish anymore."_

_I smirked, "I want nothing less than what I'm due."_

_"Don't talk like that."_

_"Like what?"_

_"Like you're entitled to something," Amy replied bitingly, her eyes hardening as she said it, "You're not! We're lucky to even be alive and now you want to jeopardize that for... for... something we can never have."_

_"It's not impossible—"_

_"But it is!" she protested, her voice rising an octave in frustration, "You don't understand! We've tried this route before! But it doesn't matter what we do, we'll never gain control over the Council. Given a_ lifetime_, we couldn't outbid him! And I... I can't keep trying it anymore. I've wasted a year of my life away from you. I'm done with this whole thing! I-I'm done!"_

_"And I'm done running away," I answered her._

_We stared at one another in silence, the implications of just what that meant hanging in the dead air between us. She was the first to glance away, her breath hitching and her shoulders hunching as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Seeing her like that really hurt. I was supposed to be keeping her safe and happy, but once again I was pulling away. Sabotaging us. It was foolish-- and something I was going to pay for dearly, eventually. I know I could have conceded and run away with her, but I was only too aware of what lay down that path. As much as I wanted Amy with me, that it wasn't the future I'd envisioned._

_"I-Ian... please—"_

_"I'm sorry," I said, my own voice sounding nearly as hoarse as hers, "I love you, but this... this isn't going to be my life."_

_The first sob wracked her body and a hand clasped over her lips to muffle the sound as she backed away from me to sink down in one of the pews. Presumably she thought it would help keep the tears at bay, try as she did to brush them away with the back of her hand and compose herself. _

_"I-If this is about getting b-back at Vikram—"_

_"It's not." I told her flatly, a little insulted that she thought it was that simple._

_She looked up almost accusingly, "And y-you're not thinking of doing th-this without us, right?"_

_I hesitated for a moment, weighing the benefits and risks in my mind, "It would be better if I knew for certain that you were safe—"_

_"N-No! No! Absolutely n-not!" she sputtered out__. I could see her trembling in her seat, but there was something unmovable in the way she spoke, despite the hysterics, that left little room for negotiation, "I'm n-not doing that... I can't l-leave you behind. N-not again. I-I... I just can't!"_

_Her arms were around her body now, hugging herself defensively, but she had that determined, resilient look in her eye that I knew better than to argue with. I sighed to myself, realizing that I was going to have to make some concessions if I didn't want to lose her-- and I certainly didn't. Closing the distance between us, I braced my hands against the pew on either side of her and leaned over._

_"You're right, I'm sorry. It's not fair to ask you to do that," I agreed in a gentler tone, "But, just let me try this my way first. Give me a couple months; if I haven't made progress by then, we'll reconsider our options from there—"_

_"No. I-If you haven't made progress, you'll come with me and Dan," she insisted, her tears beginning to subside. Although she refused to look at me, but I knew she meant it, "I need that much. I need... hope again."_

_"That's what I'm trying to give you," I tried to point out to her, "I want us to be free, Amy. _Really_ free. I want the world to be safe, I want Vikram to get what he deserves and I promise you I can make it all happen."_

_"Augh! Y-You don't get it!" she cried suddenly, slumping away from me._

_I frowned, "Don't get what?"_

_"That's not the hope I was talking about. I don't care about that!" Amy rebuked, her hands finding my tie that now lay in her lap and beginning to fiddle with it. That little action seemed to relieve her anxiety because, when she spoke next, she seemed to have calmed down and her voice was more plaintive, "I j-just want you to promise me you'll come back. Don't sacrifice yourself. Don't t-take any stupid risks. Don't—"_

_"_Risks? _Me?" I teased with a smirk on my face, "You must be thinking of someone else."_

_"That's not funny! You have such a track record for being a senseless idiot."_

_"—But a _noble_, senseless idiot."_

_She shook her head, trying to conceal her amusement, "Only sometimes... Do you promise?"_

_"Yes, I do."_

_I flashed her a grin and received a weak smile in return, but Amy seemed to make peace with my word. Indeed, the comfort of knowing I wasn't going to attempt anything dangerous seemed to reanimate her. She breathed new life, the colour returning to her face and that playful glimmer reappearing in her eyes._

_"That's all I want," She murmured, her hands tentatively tugging on my tie. There was something almost impish in the way she did it, slowly bringing my lips down to meet hers. And I was just leaning in when she stopped short, cocked her head to the side and smirked up at me teasingly, "So, we have a deal, then?"_

_"Of course," I boasted, "I already have a plan."_

*=*=*

"I didn't have a plan."

**"Oh, for the love of God—!"**

"—_But _I had the _makings _of an idea."

**"You...You_ lied_ to her! In that _touching_ moment! You snivelling, cowardly, wretch of a—!"**

"Yes, I know. It's a failing of males everywhere; we say stupid things to get attention from pretty girls. Is that really news to you? But in my defence, _that _just sort of slipped out—although come to think of it, that's not _much_ of a defence... All right, how about this: I'd had about ten minutes to think, most of which were spent running. How was I supposed to come up with something _that_ quick if you three hadn't in an entire year?"

**"That doesn't excuse anything! You still don't lie to the ones you love!"**

"Oh come off it! We lie to the ones we love all the time. If_ you_ had seen her then, I bet you'd have said just about anything to kiss her too!"

**"..."**

"Although, perhaps not."

**"You still refused to run away with Amy."**

"Well, yes, except that."

**"Why not?"**

"Because of my unwavering loyalty to you."

**"Surprising. Another_ lie_..."**

"That wasn't lying; that was being _facetious_. It's an important distinction. And I would have thought the answer would have been obvious, but if you really need me to spell it out for your senile mind, I _suppose_ I could."

**"Yes, pray tell; why did you refuse to run away with the love of your life?"**

"I was tired. Tired of running, hiding and skulking about like a criminal when all I had tried to do was protect the world and the girl I loved—this was not the heroes-treatment I had enlisted for. And the thought of keeping up that vigil for rest of my life, even if it meant I could be with Amy... I just couldn't handle that. I'd already seen what it had done to her—that weariness that I knew so well myself—and I knew that both of us couldn't bear it for much longer. Maybe destroying the clues was the right thing to do, maybe the world needed our sacrifice, but so long as I could keep fighting for something better for _us,_ I had to try."

**"Did you at least _intend_ to keep your promise to her?"**

"Naturally. It was never something I took lightly, but there was a high degree of risk in the plan I eventually put together."

**"If by 'high' you mean 'suicidal,' then, yes there was!"**

"Not if I planned far enough ahead—"

**"Which you didn't!"**

"Yes, well, I'm terribly sorry for having misjudged just how _wildly_ successful my idea was going to be. Sometimes I just underestimate my own genius. It's truly my fatal flaw—"

**"Just get to what happened! You can stroke your ego later."**

"So tragically underappreciated... All right. We said our goodbye shortly before darkness fell. You and Dan hadn't arrived yet and I couldn't afford to wait much longer, lest my handlers get too stir-crazy and begin tearing apart the city searching for me. A few more tears and exchanged emergency e-mail addresses later, I was back on the street and heading for home, feeling like I'd removed the knot from my gut only to replace it with a bloody boulder."

**"I'm not even going to_ ask_ what you mean by that..."**

"Just a metaphor for the feeling of being burdened beyond all anatomical possibilities—or is it a simile...? Anyway, I made it home all right, but the moment I set foot in the doorway, I promptly found myself thrown up against a wall and facing easily the three grumpiest people on the planet."

**"Your security?"**

"Ironic, isn't it? Mathieu-Félix just about took my head off for ditching him back at the school, using an unconscionable amount of colourful language and shaking me by the lapels of my jacket until I was dizzy. Jean chimed in too, snapping that I'd picked a fine time to do it what with the Prince and his partners were back in the city."

**"The Prince?"**

"The reference threw me. Wasn't _I_ the Prince? Or the _petit prince_? I asked Jean who he was talking about and he suddenly clammed up and exchanged looks with the other two Frenchmen. It wasn't until then that it dawned on me who they were talking about—who they'd been talking about all along..."

**"... Vikram?"**

"Who else _could _it be? I glowered at Jean venomously as I recognized the insult he'd been hurling my unwitting way for the better part of a year now. The 'little prince'? _That_ was what they'd been calling me? _That_ was how these wankers saw me—as a miniature version of my father! I freed myself from Mathieu-Félix's grip on my clothes and lunged at Jean, getting as far as shoving him against the opposite wall of our house all the while swearing furiously in French."

**"You didn't hit him, did you?"**

"No. I couldn't. In fact, I froze the moment the other two lay a hand on me to hold me back. Because, for all that I was outraged at Jean, his words kept ringing over and over in my head. _His partners_. Slowly, an idea started to form in my mind and I realized that the four of us had been approaching this from the wrong angle entirely. His partners, rather than him were the ones to focus on. They were where all Vikram's money and power came from; their fickle, monetary-driven loyalty."

**"Wasn't that what we'd been trying to do? Bribing them?"**

"Yes, but that wasn't the answer; Amy was right, we couldn't beat him in that regard—not without exposing ourselves and Orion. No, this required another, more devious tactic. We'd been trying to get ahead by playing by Vikram's rules, but I knew now that we had to break them. And I couldn't stop the maniacal laughter that burbled up in me as I recognized the solution that had been staring me in the face all along."

**"It was underhanded, boy--even to Vikram. It was something no respectable Lucian should ever have tried—"**

"Ah, but this is where you and I differ; see, you buy into that laughable idea that unity can _exist_ within the Lucian council. I'd too once deluded myself into believing that I was still a part of the Kabra family, but I saw then that it was—and had always been—a lie, and one Father had deeply ingrained in me to prevent me from becoming a liability and to train me to continue his legacy. You're right, Irina; if I'd been a great person—a great _Lucian_—I wouldn't have needed to betray him and exploit that knowledge as I did. But then, who was _I_ but what he'd made me? I was his little prince, after all."

**"Ian—"**

"And it was time for Vikram to pay the price for his arrogance; it was time for vengeance."

*=*=*

A/N: Yes, Ian's having an evil genius moment. Please forgive the cliche-ness of the last line (I really couldn't resist).


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Yiiiikes. Been a while. Seriously, I know I apologize every time for taking a while to post, but for this, I really can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I got bogged down with exams and writer's block that I couldn't force myself through until I had enough time to do it properly. I hope you'll forgive me for taking so long, even though many of you may take my promise to get the next chapter out sooner with a truckload of salt (I can't blame you in the slightest). This chapter is on the short side with some technical stuff that can be a bit dry. Fear not, the action picks up next chapter, which I originally intended to include, but decided against it because that would have taken quite a bit longer to post. Also, I've decided that it will have an epilogue. There are just too many parts of this story that need closure. It won't be too long before the story's all finished (June 7th at the absolute latest, since I'm holing up in Iceland for two months after that).

Enjoy

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Chapter 15

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"Are visiting hours over yet? I should probably go."

**"Don't you even_ look_ at that door. You're not leaving until you finish this!"**

"But if they tell me to get out—"

**"You're family. Visiting hours don't apply."**

"Come on, we've talked about this! _Don't _use the 'f' word."

**"Well, you_ are_."**

"Yes, but you make it sound like we're...._ related _or something. I've told you, I'm ready for that kind of relationship yet."

**"I'm dying! You don't_ have_ any longer!"**

"Yes, well, you just can't rush these things... And don't say 'is this—"

**"Is this what Amy feels like?"**

"Christ... Here we go again...—"

**"I don't know what you're dithering for when it comes to _her_! It's not like you're going to do any better for yourself. And you've been dating for—what? Seven years now?"**

"Mhmm."

**"A girl like that isn't going to wait forever! No, she's going to come to her senses and find someone who isn't quite as_ despicable_ as you. And where will you be then? Hmm?"**

"Somewhere where I don't have to have this conversation for the fortieth time?"

**"I'm being serious!"**

"—And it's _adorable_."

**"You glib little turd! You_ never_ take anything seriously! It's a waste of breath even _offering_ you advice! You'd much rather be alone and miserable for the rest of your life!"**

"And looking forward to it!... I still don't understand why you give a toss; you're going to be dead and in the ground somewhere by the time she leaves me."

**"I want my legacy to live on, boy. And whether I like it or not, that's _you_ now."**

"Oh? Because that idea worked out _so well_ for Father? You really think _you _trying to control my actions will be any different?"

**"..."**

"That's what I thought."

**"Don't gloat about being stubborn! And don't joke about driving Amy out of your life! I don't want to hear it!"**

"Sure. And if I worried about your feelings, _that_ would make all the difference."

**"Ugh! How about you just get on with the story? Remind me why she even _cares_ about you."**

"Really, just like that? Insults and then, 'let's jump to the worst day of your life, shall we, Ian?'"

**"I do not sound like that!**

"No, you sound _worse_. Rather like a smurf trying to breathe out of a car exhaust pipe. But I digress... you wanted to know what happened, right? How it all ended in a stalemate, with a gun in my hand and another in my father's?"

**"I've already _told you_ I do!"**

"Ah... but that's jumping ahead a little. First, I should tell you how my ingenious plan unfolded."

**"If you must... I already know about_ that _insanity. The entire council does—and they still resent you for it."**

"But it worked. And it did because it was simple: I couldn't hope to outbid my father, but I _could_ make it so that no one on the Lucian council would want to associate with him. I could turn _him_ into the liability—and one that could potentially drive every Lucian on the planet to financial ruin."

**"Including _me_! I'll have you know you cost me thousands of euros with that little stunt!"**

"Yes, but I cost Father billons more. You see, he'd been terribly sloppy about cleaning up his accounts and passwords after he disowned me. I don't know if it was arrogance or simply the fact that he had never noticed over the years how much I'd learned from him—which is hard to imagine, since he'd been grooming me to take over his affairs since I was old enough to count. Vikram had shown me all his high-profile business connections, deals and investments that brought in a good chunk of cash for the family—all of which were perfectly legitimate and secure no matter what I did. His illegitimate ones were not so lucky."

**"And you're one to criticize, of course."**

"Hey! My investments aren't _half_ as dirty and exploitative as his were."

**"But we're _Lucians_! The fact that we _aren't_ confined to conventional morality is what makes us superior to the other branches. It's what we do!"**

"Perhaps...although _I_ think human trafficking and re-routing cocaine money through international aid organizations are beyond even Lucian thresholds for foul play. But the point wasn't to slap him on the wrist for being a bad person; it was to smack him across the chops for being arrogant."

**"Arrogant?"**

"For all his boasting and the crap that he taught me as a child. He'd always say with this smarmy grin on his face how if government made the legal market nearly as profitable as the illegal ones, he wouldn't have so much invested in it. Of course, that's all rubbish. He loved the ego boost that came with outsmarting the authorities more than the money he got from it. So, being the upstanding citizen that I am, I decided I'd give the police a leg-up on Vikram."

**"And the entire council as well—!"**

"Regrettable casualties."

**"You _twat_! Seven Lucians were _arrested_! Seven! And all you can say is 'regrettable casualties'?"**

"They were in bed with Vikram—so to speak. It's their own fault for being so tied up in his operations; if they'd had any sense, they'd have steered clear of his dirty schemes and come up with their own. They deserved it. I reported about six incidents that I could remember—all involved with drug trades and money laundering in different countries; human trafficking is just too damnably hard to prove, so I didn't try."

**"Entirely too messy as well." **

"Indeed. So I focused on the cocaine angle. The proof of the trade was simple enough to find; his email invoices—because he was just so anal that he actually gave_ invoices_ to drug dealers—and his bank balances spoke for themselves and, with a bit of menial cash transferred to the right accounts in Colombia, I had anonymous witnesses lined up to testify about his involvement. And that was enough to go to the police. And then the newspapers. And then the blogosphere. And then I just started posting the front pages of the gossip rags that featured the story around the Paris Stock Exchange. It became a bit of a hobby, actually. A rewarding one too. Some people collect stamps, others paint; I got my fun from destroying my father's reputation and running his company into the ground."

**"We didn't know it was your doing at first."**

"No? Really? Amy tells me you sounded like a tourettes victim anytime someone mentioned my name. So you figured it out eventually."

**"You want to bring that up again, do you?"**

"No. Well, not particularly... It was weeks later that I first read in the paper about Father being brought in for questioning in London. It did put a smile on my face, although to my dismay he was never arrested—I'm guessing because a lot_ more_ money changed hands—but the damage was done. Stocks in his company plummeted from the bad press, the media had a field day digging into his personal life, and still the investigations continued. It seemed I'd only dropped the match into the proverbial hayfield, because before I knew it, the press was doing my digging for me and there were allegations of much more serious offenses. Murders, assassinations, terrorist accomplices and plots; they all surfaced. I didn't need you three to tell me the damage this was doing to his beloved Lucian image."

**"Remarkable how quickly rats will flee from a sinking ship. The more high-profile Lucians were the first to denounce him to protect their own reputations."**

"Which was fantastic for our cause; the crotchety geysers that had demanded a higher price for their loyalty were now only too happy to hand it over if it meant they could be free of Vikram. I don't know how in the blazes you managed to keep your identity a secret from everyone, but rumours about an anonymous Lucian who had gathered the 39 Clues together were everywhere. I was thrilled. We finally had the upper hand we deserved and our future was blindingly bright. It seemed only a matter of weeks before you would be able to take possession of the council with almost no resistance."

**"Ah... if only."**

"It's funny. Of all the plans, and contingency plans, and contingency plans to contingency plans that we hatched during the whole scheme, not _one_ of them ever went off without a hitch... And this was no exception. I knew Vikram wouldn't sulk away quietly and without a fight; I just couldn't have guessed what kind of fight it would be."

**"The cowardly ****prick."**

"To_ vastly_ understate it, yes.... It was that month--May, I believe--that Paris burned. At first, it was only a few buildings—specifically the ones that me and my handlers had stayed at in the past. The flat I'd woken up in three days after I'd been shot was one of the first to go up in flames, then the one we'd moved into next, and then the one after that. Soon enough, each night, sirens would wail in the distance as we could see the spires of black smoke smudging the sunset over the city. I caught it all on the evening news with a growing mixture of guilt and fury in my gut; the dead bodies, the screaming children, the weeping families, the burn victims. Still, it wasn't real to me yet. It didn't hit home that this was as much my doing as it was his. The media blamed it on the usual suspects—immigrant groups, the unemployed youth, and disgruntled political organizations—but the four of us knew better. This was Vikram's sick little message to _me_: he was coming."

**"It was foolish of him." **

"Foolish? That's _all_ you think it was? It was psychotic! The man should be in an asylum. He killed hundreds of people and burned half of Paris to the ground on that mad little foxhunt!"

**"I'm _agreeing_ with you, boy! Don't bite a poor woman's head off!"**

"You're not poor_;_ you're_ nouveau riche_. That makes you even _more_ insufferable, not realizing that you're still inferior--"

**"_Inferior_--? Because I _earned_ what I have, rather than waiting for it to be _handed_ to me? And I was speaking _metaphorically, _you little swot!" **

"Oh. Right, the whole dying bit... Fine, I suppose you are then. Though, I might have gone with something more colourful, like 'pathetic', 'weak', 'old'... maybe 'decrepit'--"

**"Whatever you call me, it still beats 'spoiled', 'arrogant' or just plain 'stupid'."**

"Nobody said you couldn't be all of _them_ too... As the weeks wore on, reality sank in and I began to feel like a caged rat. A part of me wanted to hurl myself against the bars in a vain attempt to get him to stop this massacre, but the logical part of my brain—and that promise I'd made to Amy—held me back. I'd sworn I wouldn't take any more risks and confronting Vikram would be almost certain suicide. I'd stopped my inquests into his criminal activities, but the media had yet to let go of him, which only seemed to fuel the flames--again, so to speak. And now, all I could do was stand by, feeling like a ruddy pillock, as Paris was destroyed."

**"You are to blame for a lot of things--a _lot_! But you aren't responsible for Vikram."**

"What? No! God no! _That _wasn't my bloody fault at all! None of it was! And I wasn't about to borrow guilt the way Amy would have; I have a more dignity than that."

**"Then what are you_ moaning _about?" **

"I meant I felt miserable for not being _smart_ enough to take Father on and do it properly. Hell, if I couldn't do that, how would I be able to handle the entire Lucian Council? Assuming I could ever get that far. After all, I had flooded their stronghold, had seven people arrested and bankrupted the rest of them; just how thrilled would they be to have me as Branch Leader?"

**"Ha! Yes, congratulations. You really _did_ piss off the most dangerous people in the world."**

"Pretty daring, I think."

**"Mind-blowingly stupid, _I _think. Though, not truly surprising... Go on."**

"... Meanwhile, as May wore on, Vikram drew closer. His targets narrowed to places we had stayed in the past month, so we began varying our residences more and more. The fear that he would find us, or rather find Amy, haunted my nightmares. At night, I could hear her and Dan screaming for me, their cries mingled with my own desperate gasps for breath. It was a miserable time. Days would pass in the blink of an eye, but the evenings would wear on with endlessly worry. Smoke continued to rise over Paris and more casualties followed; more faces, more bodies, more victims-- and as each one passed, I would hope and pray that Vikram hadn't found them. That terror took its toll on me; I stopped sleeping at night, my hands started shaking, I grew thinner and lost quite a bit of colour. My protectors were concerned for me, but I brushed it aside with the repeated consolation that it was _working_. This waiting wasn't all for nothing; every day, more Lucians were siding against Vikram, and every day our cause grew stronger. One more sunrise meant that our chances of taking the council were higher. It was _almost _enough. We just had to hang on tight and _not_ give into him..."

**"Ha! You've got a lot to learn, boy! If you play with Lucians, it's never _that_ easy."**

"I know... Which was why, on June 4th, when I found a photograph of my old school, _Lycée Jeanne d'Arc,_ pinned to the door of our hotel room, I realized that the game had changed. Immediately, we switched residences to a different hotel across the city, but it never eased the dread I felt staring at that photograph. A date and time were written across the back. Hundreds of scenarios ran through my mind, but one thing stood out: the message had changed. Father wasn't coming for me anymore—he already _knew_ where I was. I wasn't barmy enough to believe he'd had a change of heart about his only son, so what did this _mean_? Why would he give me a picture of that building?"

**"Wait—_Jeanne_, as in...?"**

"Yes. The Jeanne bombing. June 5th, 2009. The night before it happened, I argued with Vincent over whether or not I should take the bait and go there. He firmly believed we were winning; what was the point in jeopardizing that? I, however, wasn't so convinced that we were. After all, we no longer knew what Father wanted from me; if it was to have me killed, he could have done that already. There was something else here that was at stake and it was maddening not to see what that was. He was taunting me, rubbing it in my face that I was still one step behind. I was desperate. I needed answers, and I thought I could get them from going."

**"You went?"**

"Yes...?"

**"_No_! You didn't! You _demented_ little moron!"**

"Hey! I resent tha—"

**"—Have you been_ asleep_ for twenty-three years? He's a _Lucian_! He's trying to_ kill_ you! Of _course_ you don't go!"**

"But he wasn't—"

**"Oh I don't care what secret 'communiqué' you _think_ you had with him! He sent people to murder you, boy! You. Don't. Go!"**

"Look, he bloody-well _didn't _kill me! Didn't even try. So, knock it off before you send yourself into shock, you old cow_._ Lord knows, I'd never hear the end of it from Amy if I _irritated _you to death..."

**"Well, what _did _happen then? Something worth mentioning I hope?"**

"Yeah. Vikram's bomb went off and killed sixty percent of my classmates—now, is that worth mentioning?"

**"Oh. Right..."**

"...You know, what I don't understand, is why you lot voted him into power in the first place--"

**"You have no right to judge that decision, boy. You weren't even alive at the time." **

"Oh, but I do. I have to live with it! I have to_ live_ with what that twisted, vile, _sadistic_ son-of-a-!"

**"I know what he is, Ian! You don't need to explain to me--!"**

"Yes I do! Because you still don't understand! You think Vikram burning down Paris was _foolish_? _Cowardly_? Well, what about _this_? He had his opportunity; he knew where I was. He'd won! So _why_? Why the bombing? He had my attention; he didn't need to kill hundreds of children to get that message across! It was just cold, calculated, purposeless, violence-for-the-sake-of-violence. See, that doesn't even make him an anarchist. That, Irina, makes him a psychopath."

**"Maybe... Maybe he is _now_." **

"I _know_ he is! I've seen the proof. I was _there_, watching as those seven bombs went off, tearing the goddamn _school_ apart from end to end until it was a smoking, fiery ruin. From about a hundred feet away, I felt the shockwaves wash over me and the rain of debris that followed. You know, in movies, it always seems so noisy; the blast, the human screams, the sirens, the roaring flames, but it's not really like that. I just remember how silent and still everything was. Birds still twittered quietly in the trees, cars still rumbled by on the lower embankment, and the world went on as though nothing unusual had happened. As if it wasn't real. It lasted a full minute, until people came to their senses and began yelling, screaming, trying to get help. I wish I could say I was one of them, bravely fighting to save my classmates' lives, but I wasn't. I just continued to gape in shock over the horrifying scene, too numb inside to move. I didn't even realized until Vincent was picking me up off the pavement that my knees had given out."

**"So that was it? He just wanted to toy with you?" **

"And, of course, to show off. Vikram wanted revenge, but I think killing me outright would have been too quick and too simple. In his mind, he was superior, but that wasn't enough. He wanted me to know that he was and that_ I_ was nothing, before he killed me. Which was why he couldn't just stop at blowing up a school; Father wanted to hit me where it would truly hurt."

**"And that was?"**

"Amy."

**"Amy? Wait! Is that why you set up that meeting with him? Because you thought he was going to hurt her?" **

"I didn't think it. I _knew_ it."

**"Oh come off it! How could you know she was his target? They were in hiding! He couldn't _possibly_ have known where she was!" **

"That was what I thought. And she'd have been fine if you were doing your job--"

**"I was!" **

"Really? Then why, when I returned home that afternoon, did I find a picture of her pinned to our new hotel room door?"

**"...You're not serious."**

"I wish I wasn't. It was worryingly recent too. Her hair was short, like it had been when I'd last seen her, and she was smiling at someone outside of the picture. She looked beautiful, and—in spite of the situation—I couldn't help but feel in awe of the fact that she was with_ me. _After all of the stupid stunts I'd pulled and things I'd said to her, she'd picked _me_. It made my entire chest ache to think of Vikram hurting her—of anything happening to her."

**"I suppose we might have seen this coming. He was getting desperate by then."**

"Just like the school's picture, there was a time and date scribbled on the back: June 10th, 2:00PM. Father knew where she was, like he knew where I was. Five days from then, he was going to kill her._ T__hat_ would be my fault as would the next life he took and the one after that--if I couldn't do something to stop him first."

"**Now I see... That was why you decided to meet him. At the time, I'd thought you'd lost your mind." **

"Heh. So did Father. An hour after I found her picture on my door, I made a phone call. It rang twice before a man on the other end picked up the line. Even as I said hello, I couldn't help but scowl as I turned the revolver in my hand over, feeling its surprising weight in my palm. Anger had always been a familiar emotion for me--even as a child--but after the wondrous hope that the past few weeks had given me, I knew it was toxic. Still, there are just some occasions in life where that blind rage is necessary for the things you can never accomplish while sane. I knew that while he was still at large, there was no hope for Amy or I. Even if we could run away together, even if I struck him hard enough to keep him from following, we'd always be looking over our shoulders for him, waiting and keeping watch. We'd be living the same runaway life her parents had before mine had killed them. And I wasn't prepared to let history repeat itself."

**"Ian... you didn't really mean to--?"**

"Kill him? Not if I could help it. My conscience--and by that I mean Amy--wouldn't have allowed it. But for that very reason, I also needed to stop him before anyone else got hurt. Even if it meant breaking my promise to Amy. Whatever it took, I swore to myself that Vikram's warpath would end that night."


	16. Chapter 16

_It started with a blast. _

_With light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once and a loud, echoing smash to accompany it, I was suddenly and rudely brought back to life. My useless eyes struggled in the overwhelming nothingness and it took me a moment to realize that the reason I couldn't move my hands was because they were bound behind me. _

"_Awake, is he?" _

_A groan escaped me and my tongue darted out, feeling just how dry my lips had gone. My neck was terribly stiff and the muscles in my extremities were involuntarily clenched, but the pain wasn't intolerable. Slowly, I twisted this way and that, testing my limits as shapes and colours began to spring up before me. _

"_Good. Sit him up." _

_I was in a dark place, the smell of rotting wood and sewer invading my senses. It was familiar, I knew that much, but where was I? Where were Vincent and the others? And why were people dashing around so fast, the shapes eluding my sight by so little? What happened? And who was touching me—?_

_A pair of rough hands clasped my face, a thumb jabbing beneath my right eyelid to pry it open and shine a light. It hurt and I tried to jerk away, but couldn't escape it. Murmurs rippled around me, all of them utterly unintelligible until one spoke up:_

"_I thought you said there would be no permanent damage!" a new voice, higher and feminine inquired, "You're telling me he can't see?"_

"_Well..." _

_I knew his voice better than I knew my own. I knew his smell too, that rich, clean-smelling cologne with just a hint of old scotch..._

"_Father."_

_My head lolled forward and the fingers instantly vanished from my face. Red spots lingered on the peripheries of my eyes, but when I next opened them, I could see again. Sluggishly and on strained muscles, I raised myself up, taking in my surroundings. Stained glass windows abounded and a gutted chandelier was raised in the aging rafters nearly above where I sat, staring my own Father in the eyes. The rotting wood and the rat feces finally made sense; we were in the Lucian church._

_Irina's church..._

_Shit. _

*=*=*(Earlier)*=*=*

_I'd just hung up the phone, fingers gripping that gun in my hand with excessive force as I wondered to myself just how far I was willing to go. How deep would I be willing to sink to take what was necessary? I remember with so much clarity how my three handlers had watched on in trepidation of just what their borderline-mad master might propose. Their unease though, was soon put to rest. _

"_You're all fired," I'd said, rising from my seat and waving dismissively, "You have until tonight to get out."_

_It came as a shock, perhaps a harsh one, if you want to get into the ethics of job security. None of them budged from the spot, each one either staring at me or glancing between themselves, as though doubtful of my sanity. Jean was the first to brazenly open his mouth:_

"_So, what's the plan?"_

"_Nothing that concerns you. I said you're all—"_

"—_Not leaving," Mathieu-Félix intoned, the sharp look in his eye and the edge to his voice directed at me. "None of us. Not until this is over. What have you arranged?"_

_I scowled at the lot of them and their stubbornness, shoving the handgun into my pocket. "It's already over. Go back to your families and leave me to deal with mine." _

_For some reason, they seemed to find this darkly amusing; Jean snorted and Mathieu-F__é__lix made a face as though I'd said something stupidly immature and lit another cigarette. I glared holes into them and demanded to know what they found so damn funny. My classmates were dead and my life was forfeit in Father's morbid game; it wasn't exactly hysterical. _

"_Not everything's about you, P.P." Jean pointed out._

"_That little 'family' of yours affects our lives too." Mathieu-F__élix chimed in, "You think we want them in power?" _

"_Not a goddamn chance."_

_I was stunned for a moment, caught off-guard by their sudden attention to politics. All this time, I'd assumed they were just with me because I paid them—and perhaps that was part of it—but it had never occurred to me that they might actively believe in my cause too. It made sense; they were employed by and living in Lucian territory. Any powershift from above would affect them too. I turned to Vincent, curious if he felt the same way. _

"_Toi aussi?" _

_The big man shrugged simply, "Change is long overdue. I just hope you're up for the worst." _

_I hesitated. My plan was dangerous, nigh on suicidal, and more than likely to get one or all of us killed even if they tagged along. Perhaps worst of all, it might fail completely and then we'd be left with nothing, but it was time to take a chance. It was time to change our futures. _

"_Then we'd better prepare for that," I replied sharing a daring look with Vincent._

_.  
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_.  
_

"We devoted the next two solid days to set-up. Notes were sent out to all relevant parties; a fair warning of what was hopefully to come. I risked sending Amy a quick message too, although I did so with a small measure of guilt."

**"Guilt?"**

"Right, I forgot; you're not familiar with that emotion. You see, sometimes, if you do or are about to do something that will harm others, some people feel a sense of—"

**"I know what guilt is, twat! Why were you feeling it?"**

"Because, true to Amy's plan, we were going to leave Paris the moment Father was safely disposed of. I didn't want to live where the safety of everyone I cared about was dependent on staying in power in the Lucian court. Instead, I planned to leave politics behind with my Lucian status as protection, stay off everyone's radar and lead a relatively normal life with Amy while _you_ ran things. I wasn't going to be the involved leader that you, Vincent, Jean, and Mathieu-Félix were counting on me to be. When the time came to replace you, I'd find another solution, but right then I wanted to concentrate on living my life."

**"You cowardly little snot! You were going to just run off right then, were you? You selfish—!"**

"Shut up!"

**"Don't you take that tone—!"**

"I'll take whatever tone I want, because you know _damn well_ it didn't happen my way—bloody _simple_ as that would have been."

**"..."**

"...I was still going through with my plan—Vikram needed to be dethroned and the 39 Clues put in trustworthy hands—but above all, I had to get that Lucian protection. And for that, I needed Father out of the way. At that time, memos circulated about the upcoming Lucian meeting to be held on the Monday, and excitement and rumours that it would mean the unveiling of the 39 Clues victor spread like wildfire."

**"Everyone believed it was you, boy."**

"I don't know why. I wasn't even a Lucian at the time; if I'd been acting alone, the logical thing would have been to hand them to the Janus and been done with it. But I digress... the rumour mill worked to our advantage this time, since it allowed me to set up a meeting with Father elsewhere on that day. He knew that those speculations were true—I had the Clues—and that allowed me the opportunity to draw him away from attending that conference. His fatal mistake."

**"And yours."**

"Well, that too."

**"You should have prepared for that! You should have known! You could have di-... Bah! It's just so typical that you wouldn't spare a thought to how anyone else felt, you egocentric little ass!"**

"Wow. Do I detect _concern_ with that insult?"

**"Oh, don't be stupid!"**

"My mistake... clearly. I sent you a request too, remember it? That one you utterly bungled and nearly cost me my life over? Nearly cost Amy hers?"

**"I did no such thing! There were unforeseeable circumstances surrounding that!"**

"There were bullets in the gun—!"

**"I couldn't have emptied it without blowing my cover or arousing suspicion! You know that! Amy knows that!"**

"She's being _nice_ about it because you're senile and a walking corpse... I don't see any point in sparing your feelings, because you _should_ feel bad about it. "

**"Well I don't!"**

"Then you don't deserve her pity."

**"Oh right! You want to talk about not deserving her, do you-?"**

"Stuff it, Irina. I heard you the_ first_ dozen times. Do you want to hear the end of this or not?"

.

.

_Vincent's dour forewarning about preparing for the worst turned out to be deadly accurate—and something I wish I'd had the sense to heed. But in my mind, I earnestly believe that what I was doing was safe and that I was upholding my promise to Amy. I'd taken special measures to minimize any personal risk that my plan posed and convinced myself whole-heartedly that that was enough, but in the end, those measures ended up blinding me to the one harsh truth that I had overlooked._

_And I paid dearly for that..._

_That morning, I played the part of a gargoyle, hidden among the potted plants of a rooftop dwelling overlooking the private suite where I knew my Father waited from across the street. It was a bright, shiny day, and a fitting backdrop for me to win freedom for me and Amy—and all without spilling innocent blood. With Vincent by my side and a .32 calibre at my hip, I felt a tranquil sense of security that hadn't been there in months._

_"Are you going back to your own family after this?" I asked him feeling uncharacteristically light and chatty. I knew he had a wife and a little girl somewhere in Brittany, which was more than Jean or Mathieu-Félix knew, but still marked the limits of my knowledge about his personal life._

_"Assuming this works," he replied, not taking the binoculars from his face._

_I hesitated, watching his expression to avoid overstepping my bounds, "If it does, you know I'll have loads of money."_

_When he was silent and I continued picking my words with care._

_"Your girl can go to Harvard if she likes," I floated the idea. "Or Camebridge, or Oxford or pretty well anywhere else on the planet. I can make that happen. You and your wife, you won't have to work anymore either. I can see to that—"_

_"You want to take care of me now?" he clarified, a hint of amusement in his voice._

_"No," I scowled suddenly feeling uncomfortable for ever having opened my mouth, "I just... wanted to help."_

_"You can help by being a good Branch Leader," he replied, turning from the mission to look me squarely in the eyes with a stare that chilled me to the marrow. For one dreadful second, I thought that he'd guessed the truth about what I was planning, but he quickly returned to his surveying. "That's it. And don't underestimate the challenge."_

_I nodded, ignoring the squirm in my belly, "Consider it done."_

_We returned our attention to the suite, watching from our position as Father adjusted his tie before the mirror. The permanent look of disdain in his reflection probably matched mine as I watched the arrogant prick. Natalie hadn't accompanied him to France and we had watched Mother leave earlier in the day to visit an old friend in the city. It meant that apart from the two armed men who stood guard outside his door, he was alone in the apartment, preparing for a meeting with me that would never take place._

_Well, at least not the one that he had in mind._

_"And we've got our signal," Vincent announced putting down the binoculars and slowly rising to his feet. The plan was in motion._

_I gripped the telephone line suspended just above my head and began fastening the end of a second, stronger line to it on zip cable. When I was finished, Vincent sent it off with a rough push. We watched as it sailed over the street below and onto the roof of the penthouse where Father resided. Although couldn't see him at the moment, Jean was in place on the other end to tie it off securely so that we could swing down together and onto his balcony._

_"Mathieu-Félix is in?" I asked, staring down at Father's room trying to catch a glimpse of him on the inside._

_"Not yet."_

_"What's taking so long?" I huffed getting agitated about all this now. He should have been there already._

_"Patience." Vincent advised, securing a piece of rope that would serve as his zipline handle to our new cable. We had no harnesses like those I had used when Amy and Dan had helped me escape in England; this was a one-shot deal. I was either going to make it or fall eight stories to my death. Across the way, I could see that Jean had tied it off on the other side and had slinked back down into the building without my notice. At least something was going right..._

_I pulled out my handgun, tied up my own line, and double-checked the cartridge load as I waited. The guards outside wouldn't have stopped him for so long. Maybe he was just running late. Or maybe he'd blown everything. Finally, after a few endless minutes of waiting, I watched as Father made his way to the door and opened it. Mathieu-Félix was there, attired in a workman's uniform and armed with a toolbox._

_"Now," Vincent ordered, pointing across the way, "Jump."_

_It takes a lot of guts to leap off a building with nothing but your own skinny wrists to save you. In order to reach the balcony, the rope had to be made longer than a normal zipline—which meant I was going to freefall before it caught me. For a glorious moment, it felt like I was flying; the next, my arms were being wrenched out of their sockets. The drop was only a few extra feet, but it still hurt as I hurtled through the air, trying not to look down. At last, my feet were hovering over Father's balcony. If Vincent hadn't been seconds behind me, I'd probably have hung on longer, too instinctually afraid to let go._

_"Come on, gun out," Vincent warned me as we dropped down and pushed aside the glass door and into Father's suite._

_The look of shock on Vikram's face was as good of a treat as I might have hoped for. I can only imagine what mine must have looked like as I stood there, gun held to his head as I panted from the arm strain of holding it up on sore muscles._

_"Hullo, Dad," I said with mock cheer. "Is this a bad time?"_

_Behind him, in the hallway, the two guards were pounding on the door as Mathieu-Félix drew his own weapon, aiming it at the door. I felt my heart leap into my throat. We were going to be in trouble the second they broke that down. With a panicked look, I gestured for both Vincent and Mathieu-Félix to cover it. I wasn't taking any chances._

_"Don't suppose you'd like to chat now, would you?" I sneered, trying to keep up the bravado while fear toyed with my insides. "Something came up for this afternoon."_

_"You're a damn fool, boy," He spat in a voice barely above a whisper._

_"Yeah?" I asked, humouring him. "Why's that?"_

_"You've already lost! Even if you succeed in killing me, every Lucian on the planet will come after you. You'll be dead before my body's even gone cold."_

_"Too true. So why don't we avoid all that then?" I proposed, my words almost cut off by the battering coming from the door._

_"A truce? Don't tell me that's why you're here…"_

_"You're going to stop this," I continued, ignoring him, "Stop killing innocent people, stop burning Paris to the ground and stop going after those I care about! Swear to me that all of that ends today. In return… I'll let you keep a spot on the council: as counselor to the Branch Leader."_

_"That being you?" he surmised, crossing his arms across his chest._

_"Eventually," I replied, purposely keeping my answer vague. "Let's consider it a partnership; running the empire between the two of us; sharing the council and the clues."_

_"Only you're in power."_

_I shrugged, flashing him my best shit-eating smirk. "For practicality's sake. Only one of us had the sense to keep his nose clean and that's clearly not you."_

_His eyes narrowed in contempt, but he continued with our farce of a bargain with the appropriate amount of scorn, "Oh, and now I suppose you want me to recognize you as a Lucian again? Will that be all?"_

_"Won't be necessary," I replied casting a cautionary glance at the door. The wood at the latch was beginning to heave and splinter with each pounding that it received. It would only be a matter of seconds. "I've taken care of that."_

_"How could you have—?"_

_He never got to finish his sentence before the door burst open from the outside and the two guards charged into the room, guns raised and searching for the intruders. They found, however, the ends of my handlers' guns pointed at them; Mathieu-Félix and Vincent from inside the chambre and Jean from behind. My target stayed firmly on Father, although I did spare the time to catch the aggressive yet uncertain looks sent our way._

_For one horrible moment, there was an awful lot of yelling; French, English, Russian all screamed to be heard overtop one another and tension skyrocketed. My pulse was racing and I was sure someone was about to get shot. Then, above it all, I heard my Father's booming voice:_

_"PUT THE GUNS DOWN NOW!"_

_And like that, the cries subsided. When I turned back to Vikram, I realized just how pale his face had gone. It was the only sign of discomfort I could see on him, as he retained his usual dominating composure, but at least I knew I wasn't the only one who'd been terrified. Slowly and with marked distrust, the two guards disarmed themselves, placing their weapons on the carpeted floor and raising their hands in a symbol of surrender._

_"Good," I breathed in relief, betraying my confidence._

_"You're no leader," He told me roughly but honestly. Still, the remark struck a sour chord._

_"Watch me," I boasted in a snarl, suddenly inspired by the idea of fulfilling my promised role just to show him up."You don't know me anymore. You don't know what I'm capable of—"_

_"Do you?" he asked me seriously, gesturing to the gun in my hand._

_I growled low in my throat, but the truth was that I didn't have an answer for him. All of my survival instincts—the instincts he had taught me and Vincent had honed—were crying for me to take him out; to end all the misery he had already had and would inevitably cause. He was the cancerous mass that was keeping me from living my life and putting the only person I cared about in danger. He was the monster that had killed my classmates and would, in an unflinching moment, kill me too if the tables were reversed._

_But then there was my pathetic, little conscience stirring to life. I knew somewhere, in the back of my mind, that it was wrong; this was murder. Sure it was just a word, an action like any other, but a ghastly one that had the potential to dog me for the rest of my life. How was it fair that it conferred so many more benefits at the same time? Falling back on less virtuous inclinations, I pushed it from my mind._

_"I know what needs to be done," I answered, my voice gravelly. "If you leave me no other option, I'm prepared to take it there. I'm hoping that won't be necessary."_

_Vikram snorted and took a pacing step around me, "You're not even a Lucian; you'd have shot me by now if you were."_

_"Don't move!" I ordered him raising the gun higher, but he only took another step._

_"You're just a weak, ordinary nothing now—"_

_"P.P.," Mathieu-Félix piped up fear gripping his tone. "Get him under control!"_

_"I said 'don't move'!" I repeated menacingly, thrusting the gun closer to him, but it might as well have been loaded with water for all the attention he paid to it. And the truth of my bluff hung there in the open, naked for all to see._

_His black eyes shone with a cruel delight, "Not even fit to lead this pathetic bunch, let alone my empire—"_

_"Ian, shoot him," Vincent demanded._

_I froze. Rarely had I ever heard him give such a direct order before, let alone such a lethal one. A guilty heat slapped me across the cheeks as, unable to push it away in time, I thought of Amy. I could too easily imagine the look of horror on her face if she ever saw me take another person's life—no matter who that person happened to be or how richly he might have deserved it. She'd never even glance at me again without feeling guilty or appalled by what she saw. All of this would be for her; so that we could live freely together, so that our future could even exist! But would she even want to live with me when I was no better than he? Should that even matter? What about everyone else that was counting on me to keep Orion from his clutches? Irina, Vincent, Mathieu-Felix, Jean—the goddamn, peace-loving world was on my shoulders!_

_"I…" I hesitated, watching helplessly as Vikram circled around me in the direction of the door._

_"Ian! Now!" I heard Vincent cry._

_But it was too late. In a second, Father had pulled out that pistol he always kept on his person from his suit jacket. I watched it happen in slow motion as he raised it to my head, evening the score. The air felt thick and stagnant as all eyes in the room trained on father and son. In that moment, all I saw was the murder in his gaze, ignorant until that crucial point in my life that it was even a tangible feeling. I didn't flinch. I didn't move. I just stared, only dimly aware that this was all happening. For one dizzying, blissful second, I wondered if it already had and if this was just my mind manifesting this moment again. Dry, soundless laughter burbled up in my chest. How could this be real? Vikram was my father. He would never…_

_Barely an instant later, I was tumbling to the floor, Mathieu-Félix crashing on top of me as the gun let out its deafening bang. I felt the jolt through my friend's body and realized what had happened. Misery gripped my guts and yanked as I let out a gutteral, nearly inhuman howl._

_"No!" I screamed, shaking his shoulders as I rolled him off of me, that motionless weight beginning to crush my soul. "No! No, no! Get—get up!"_

_It was killing me, but as I rolled him over, I couldn't tear my eyes from his frightened expression and the horrible, gushing blood that now coated my own face and arms. He spluttered, his lips opening and closing wordlessly as his neck, where he'd been hit, continued to bleed. Mathieu-Félix had jumped in the way to save my life, and now he was going to die because I was too afraid to go through with what had to be done. My hands clasped his neck as my fingers dug into the gaping wound the bullet had left behind. I had to save him. I had to! No one else—least of all someone I cared about—was going to die because of me! I'm not even sure what I was saying as far as I knew I was probably babbling, but we needed help._

_"Jean! Get Amy! Get someone!" I yelled to anyone who could hear me. "He needs—! Get him a doctor now!"_

_I'd always been so oblivious to the situations around me, but never was it more obvious than in that moment. Like walking in on a scene you hadn't meant to interrupt, I found myself with worse footing than I'd thought._

_"Stop!" My voice was hoarse and came out as a rasp._

_I hadn't even heard the second gunshot or seen my second partner fall, but when I had jerked my head up, there Vincent was lying on the floor, clutching his upper thigh with red-stained hands as my Father stood over him, pressing a boot into his skull. Jean was frozen in the hallway, his gun trained on my Father's men as they quickly stooped to recover their lost weapons. He fired once, struck one of them in the back with a revolting crunch before bolting down the hall and away from all of us. The uninjured man quickly gave chase to my fleeing companion while the other lay on the carpet howling, twisting and writhing in pain. I tried to block out the sound from my mind, tried to steel myself against his pain and torment, but it was impossible. Swallowing hard and sucking in a shaky breath, I concentrated on Vikram and my fallen compatriot._

_"Get away from him!" I roared at Father, "Now!"_

_One grip held Mathieu-Félix's wound and the other, my .32— and like hell was I going to hesitate now! My teeth grit so hard I thought they'd shatter from the pressure as a new determination took hold of me; I wasn't going to lose either of them today. That was not going to happen. Slowly, Father turned away from stepping on Vincent's head and turned his attention on me. The gun was still in his hand. That damn gun; the mark of betrayal…_

_Irina, that bitch, I thought vengefully, the iron-rich taste of blood on my tongue._

_It wasn't supposed to have been loaded! I'd sent a note telling her to load the gun in his office drawer with blanks. It was his pistol, and since he'd been under serious investigation in England, he'd started keeping it in his desk at the Council. It would have been easy to walk in there and switch the bullets without anyone being the wiser. It would have made my side of the plan infinitely safer._

_Apparently, she had wanted me out of the way after all. The bitter, toothless old snake had bared her hidden fangs in the end, just as my Father had._

_Speaking of which…_

_"...Bastard!" The word tore itself unbidden from my throat, "You sick, sick bastard!"_

_"Consider it a lesson, boy," he replied frigidly, raising his own gun to me as he took a few lazy paces in my direction, "A final lesson. Mercy is a fool's gambit."_

_"So is vengeance," I snarled right back._

_"Vikram! Vikram, no!" A female voice rang out across the room. For a half second, it was enough to distract everyone, drawing their gazes towards the only exit. I inclined my head only enough to catch a brief glimpse of her outline in the doorway, her short brown hair swaying gently in the breeze from the window. I'm not sure why, but it didn't even register with me at the time who that was. Only one thought entered my mind.  
_

_Now was my chance._

_I raised my gun to Vikram with the knowledge and conviction that I would have pulled that trigger, had it not been for a sharp, sudden pinch of metal at my neck. Confused and surprisingly sluggish my arm muscles seized and I drew a hitched breath. Refusing to let go of my friend's neck and without releasing my gun, I clumsily felt along my own throat until my fingers brushed the tranquillizer dart that was protruding out of my skin._

_My vision lurched violently, the last clear image that I recalled being Isabel standing framed in the doorway. I remember thinking that she looked as pretty as a portrait; the summer wind rippling through her pale blue cotton dress, a pool of blood at her feet and a tranquillizer gun clutched in her delicate hands..._

_.  
_

_.  
_

"That was how my last plan fell to pieces; at the guilty hands of my mother.

**"You shouldn't blame Isabel... That poor woman; she thought she was protecting you."**

"You're right. I should be blaming _you_."

**"Oh come off it—!"**

"There were bullets in Father's gun! That's _your_ fault."

"**We've talked about this! When are you going to let it go?"**

"Unbelievable—"

**"It's been seven years since that day, horrible _accident_ that it was. I think it's been quite long enough for you to stop punishing me—"**

"He's _dead_, Irina."

**"…"**

"Mathieu-Félix is dead _because of you_."

**"You _know_ it wasn't intentional!"**

"Doesn't matter. You're no less responsible now than you were when you were healthy and not nearly so pathetic… If that's why you brought me here—hoping to mend fences— you're wasting both of our time."

**"…"**

"Oh, come on! Of all the… Was it?"

**"If you must know… it was Amy's idea."**

"Should have figured. Cor, this reeks of her intervention. "

**"Just finish the story. Hate me to the grave if you like, but do me the kindness of leaving me with one happy memory. F_inish_ the damn thing."**

"Skip the dramatics. You forget, I grew up with Natalie; I'm immune… But yes, I'll finish it. Not that you deserve it, mind; I've been far too patient with your simpering and whining already."

**"Yes, yes. Enough with your preamble!"**

"What do you think this entire story is but one long preamble? The show's just getting started… Like you know, I woke up in the church where I'd last seen Amy, roped to a chair and more dizzy than conscious. There were quite unexpectedly a lot of people standing about in front of me, a wash of shapes and colours half-hidden in the dim light of the church that I didn't care enough to distinguish between. I could _feel_ Father was there and Mother too, though I didn't know where. As the cocktail of drugs in my system slowly began to wear off, I found a comforting sense of finality in one particularly grim thought; this was where I was going to die. Well, probably. And all these wonderful people had turned out to watch the show."

**"You mean your Father's guard?"**

"Yes. I was very drugged. In my mother's worry over any negative side-effects from shooting me, she'd asininely doped me on some serious painkillers. The result wasn't exactly helpful for Father, who immediately started his interrogation the second he was convinced I was lucid enough to talk. There isn't much point in relating just how furious he was; Vikram had journeyed well beyond reasonable sanity to tread the thin boundary between psychotic rage and homicidal tendencies. And somewhere on the list of 'Dick-ish things Ian Kabra did in the past year' he'd found the justification he needed to carve up his own flesh and blood like a mafia rat."

**"The scar—?"**

"Don't interrupt! I was painting a picture here… So, there was Father, looking imposing in that blood-splattered shirt and suit jacket, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and a small group of his bodyguards at his back, some with weapons drawn, others without, ready to back Vikram up against the threat that was his own unarmed son. It was too dark to see his eyes properly, which only added to the ghoulishness of everything, but I could see that Mother was at his side, pale as a wraith with arms clasped over her mouth in horror and worry. I felt a heavy wave of resentment wash over me and I scowled at her, hating her for her weakness almost as much as I hated him."

**"You really don't give her enough credit!"**

"No, actually I think I give her far too much. Just because_ you_ feel guilty for your deception and 'taking her son away' doesn't make Isabel infallible. She isn't and she about cost me my life right then. Don't mistake me, I love her, but she needs to learn to stand up for something."

**"She stands for her _family_—something I hope you'll learn to respect one day."**

"I find principles are easier to defend; they tend to go on fewer murderous rampages. But I digress; you wanted to hear about my torture and interrogation, didn't you?"

**"Don't be morbid."**

"It actually wasn't that bad."

**"What?"**

"No, really. And not_ just_ because I'm a man and can handle myself—"

**"Oh ha! A joke—!"**

"Compared to what else I've known him to do, he went easy on me. Vikram wanted the answer to one simple and important question: who was I working for? Unsurprising really. He'd followed me and Amy to this very church—a former Lucian base of operations—the whereabouts of which were known only to a select group of high-ranking Lucians. I would have had no way of knowing of its existence, and neither would my mongrel Cahill friends. So which other Lucian had manipulated his son into betraying him?"

**"He didn't ask about the 39 Clues?"**

"No. His empire was divided, his reputation destroyed and he was facing at least six criminal indictments back home in England; the Clues were of little importance by then. This was about revenge and weeding out the traitors to regain control."

**"I see. And?"**

"And what?"

**"I'm curious; did you betray me in the end?"**

"…"

**"…Oh you little rat! I _knew_ it! I _knew_ you'd never stick your neck out—!"**

"Yes, well, you thought wrong! Of course I didn't. It was, after all, to my benefit to hold out on that information. So, with a cock-sure grin, I spat in Vikram's face and told him that I was the brilliant mind behind this resistance."

**"Oh…"**

"Was that the world's most inadequate apology?"

**"You _misled_ me."**

"You _doubted_ me. I figured that, with Mother there, Vikram was less likely to do anything drastic to me. And, if I hung onto the shred of an advantage I had left in this game until the proper time, I might survive long enough to keep him in permanent check in the Lucian Council. All I needed was enough time for you to claim the throne and the rest would fall into place."

**"So, you were stalling."**

"I do that so well."

**"Why wouldn't he just have killed you then and there if he thought you'd been acting alone?"**

"Because, of course, he didn't believe me. I had little faith that he would either. With a sneer in my face and a jab about lacking the intelligence for such a scheme, he continued to harangue me. I just persisted with my boast, and it wasn't until his hands were gripping my collarbone with increasing pressure that he suddenly seemed to remember himself. As he recoiled, I felt a sense of awe wash over me. He'd finally remembered that, under it all, I was still his son. Could it have been that I had misjudged him? Perhaps I really didn't have anything to fear…"

**"Bloody likely..."**

"Barely a moment's pause later, and with a voice as calm as I'd ever known it to be, he ordered Mother to get to the Council and do what she could to assess the situation there. Maybe they could stem this before it was too late. He'd join her in a moment. The flash of fear that rippled over her features and the ice that suddenly seemed to pervade the air didn't slip by me as the two of us exchanged a panicked glance."

**"No… She wouldn't…"**

"She did."

**"…"**

"Now you see why I'm reluctant to forgive her? Without a word of protest, she turned and left me in that church, at the mercy of my father as two or three of his men trailed out after her. I watched her retreating back and the blood that already streaked her fair skin up to her elbows imagining that mine may just have been added to it. I swore at her, called her all manner of foul name and told her she'd just signed my death warrant, but it changed nothing. As the door swung shut behind her with an echoing bang, I realized I had just lost. Maybe our cause hadn't. Maybe there was a brighter future. What did it matter though?"

**"You _saved_ us. You gave us the time we needed to overturn the Council. Isabel was there at the end, but it wasn't enough. We took power because of _you_."**

"Yes, yes... but meanwhile, _I_ was about to _die_. You understand I don't buy into this for-the-greater-good bollocks. I never turned martyr or offered myself up as a sacrifice. I'm far too well-bred—evolutionarily-speaking—for that."

**"Never change, boy..."**

"Why would I...? The problem was that Father had apparently given up on using me at all. Far too enraged over the devastation I had caused after he had allowed me to live and my flippant refusal to cooperate, Vikram was seeking to put an end to the one who had ruined him. Cocking and leveling the pistol at my head, he eyed me with one last look of contempt, but couldn't resist informing me that I could have had what I wanted had I only been patient. We could have ruled everything together, united the Cahills and used the 39 Clues to control them all. Instead, I had probably undone the Lucian Empire with the chaos this new power struggle would bring. Because he wasn't about to back down and, if he couldn't have what was rightfully his, he was going to make sure what I valued most joined me in death."

**"Let me guess…?"**

"Oh you don't even need to. That's the problem with having your weakness on display for the world to see. Again, I must thank Natalie for calling that to my Father's attention; I somehow doubt he'd have cottoned onto Amy otherwise. But I was far from finished speaking."

**"Isn't that always the case?"**

"From some place of calm I didn't know existed within me, I forced a cold laugh. When was it, I asked him, that he had let himself slip? Had _I _been the one to rattle him into thoughtlessly ignoring logic in favour of fulfilling petty jealous whims? I wasn't sure if I should be honoured or mourn for the loss of his sanity."

**"Oh Christ! You_ would_ try to provoke the lunatic."**

"And it was frighteningly easy. I knew the buttons to push; I knew how to get inside his head. Had he not underestimated me at every turn? Hadn't he given into the complacency that had caused his financial ruin? And now was he really intent on doing away with the very last redeeming advantage that could secure his place in the Lucian Council? Well, so be it. If my demise was because I lacked ruthlessness, his would be because he'd been a vengeful fool."

**"Ha! Brilliant!"**

"Pity Father didn't share your admiration. I didn't even see it happen. It was almost as though time had jumped forward, because the next thing I knew, I was leaning forwards in my chair, straining involuntarily against my bound hands with blood dripping all over my lap. My right eye felt like it was in the process of exploding as little fluorescent lights dotted my vision. With effort, I lifted my head just enough to stare up at Father. He had on an almost bored expression as he calmly wiped my blood from his pistol with his handkerchief. Had that bastard really just pistol-whipped me? I swore and spat on the ground at his feet."

**"He_ hit_ you with a gun? And you didn't you tell me?"**

"Yes, well he also tried to _kill_ me on numerous other occasions. A little violence seemed low on the list of things to report. And since when do you care?"

**"I-I don't! It's a matter of principle and property—not about_ you_ in particular!"**

"Property, am I-?"

**"You know what I meant!"**

"I'm going to excuse that as a one of those severe lapses in judgments you people call 'senior moments' and we're going to move on... Once his handkerchief was again carefully stowed in his breast pocket, Vikram sighed theatrically and began to lament over what a great disappointment I'd been to both him and my mother. Did I know that she was so terribly ashamed of me that she'd ceased to even acknowledge my existence? But, he concluded, all could be remedied in time and it surely would be—I merely would not be around to witness it."

**"Scathing, I suppose. For him."**

"He ended with something about having meant to splatter my brains out in my sleep. Imagine the kind of therapy I'd need if I were anything but a Lucian…"

**"I wouldn't disregard the idea of therapy entirely."**

"With perhaps more balls than brains, I laughed and wished him all the best with grooming_ Natalie—_of all the lost, high-maintenance causes— to take my place in his Kabra dynasty. What a merciless scavenger… At least I had a moral motive and the mental capacity to plan ahead! _She_'d turn on him the moment she smelled blood in the water and there would be no proffered partnership from her. Vikram could be damn sure of that."

**"You're too harsh on the poor girl!"**

"She told me she'd have killed me…! _And_ she whipped that cookie at my head."

**"Sibling rivalry—"**

"Oh what? Are you determined to sympathize with every one of my heinous family members _but _me?"

**"They're more redeemable. Some of them."**

"Well, I'm glad I beat out_ Vikram_… It annoyed him to recognize the limitations of his future options, but it wouldn't sway him—and really, until that point I had only been grasping at straws while trying to keep my dignity intact. That gun wasn't going to be moved from my face through reason and logic. And neither would those of the four men remaining behind him. Instead Vikram just scowled, ignoring my barb, and told me this was long overdue as the cold touch of the pistol once again rested against my face. _Good riddance_."

**"For the third time, the melodramatic knob…-"**

"—And that was when the broken chandelier, which had hung just shy of the pulpit above us, crashed to the ground with clamour that shocked every one of us…"


End file.
